Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Title: Mother and Son
Rating: G
Spoilers: For both parts.
Authors' Note: I felt that the series left a few things untouched, such as Jack and what became of his mother. So I plan to write a longer story about that, though hopefully someone will be willing to be my beta to help me with is more of a prologue than anything I suppose. I may or may not leave this as is, a one-shot.
Jack Frederick Heart sat forward in his throne, alone in the white room empty except for him and his chair.
He gazed around the grand space, it was once his mother's apartment in the city in the sky, perched above every other tower. Now it was his.
His home, his throne, and his kingdom.
And he had absolutely no idea what to do with it.
Jack leaned back, rubbed his hands on the red velvet, his mother's favorite color. Everything about this place seemed to scream her, from the ruby encrusted forks to the lush blood colored drapes. She had lived in such absurd state of luxury that he was nearly disgusted, but then who was he to judge? He too had always picked the finer things that was offered to him, he too had eaten from the silver and ruby forks.
" You're her son?"
He remembers all too well the look of surprise on Alice's face, and her tone. A simple short sentence, but it holds all his insecurities. It haunts him like a ghost, the truth that he can't change.
He is her son, and he knows without a doubt that he is more like her than his father. A man that was constantly walked upon, shunned into corners, never lifting his head to dare speak out. Jack is proud, stubborn and couldn't walk without his head held up high if he tried; probably trip if he did.
He shares his mother's like of sweets and the scent of cherries, as well as her annoyance of riddles and delayed work. Over the years he's tried to further himself from her, to black out their similar taste and highlight their differences; but always in some little way he always failed, the color red always managed to seep into his wardrobe. He could never truly manage to get down those plates of bacon and eggs, knowing deep down what he really wanted was a raspberry tart.
He wonders now, alone in what is soon going to be his new court room, if he isn't just like her.
" So that's why he wanted her. Evil boy."
He's not. He can't be. He's not her. Evil can't possibly be genetic, can't be passed down like red hair or blue eyes. Can't be taught, like his lessons or fight training. It's just something you are or aren't...Isn't it?
" So that all of wonderland can see you for who you really are."
He knows that most of Wonderland will only see him as her son, the son of a crazed and greedy tyrant. That every lock of his hair will only further remind them of who his mother is, that each time something goes wrong and his face flushes with anger, that they'll narrow their eyes and wonder if he'll throw a tantrum like she used to. That they'll remark in whispers to each other of his fondness for red and tarts, that he still prefers the lavish silverware than the ones with simply design. Jack can't change these things, it's impossible to erase his mother in him. Even now, as he sits alone in his throne he thinks back on how he got here, playing the spy and lying to get what he wanted, gathering forces against his mother while smiling as they shared dinner.
He can't help but think, with a bitter smile, that she would have done exactly the same thing.
~ Please Review, all comments are welcomed as well as advice. ~