Hello dearest reader,
thank you for clicking on this little story. I hope you like it! :)
This is the first time I'm publishing a story here, so I would be really happy, if you find the time to write a review. I apologize for any mistakes, I'm german, so English isn't my first language. Feel free to tell me about any mistakes and I will correct them.
About the story and how it came to be (you can skip this part if you're not interested in my ramblings :) : I started watching Arrow a few months back, mainly because of John Barrowman, who is doing an amazing job playing Malcolm Merlyn, but I really like the show itself, too. So, I was looking for Fanfictions about Malcolm a few weeks ago and didn't really find anything that interested me, which got me thinking what I would write about and I had the idea about Tommy thinking of his Dad when he was dying. And here we are. This takes place in the last episode of season one when Tommy is trapped in the building, shortly before Oliver arrives. The title is a sentence from the scene between Tommy and Oliver,
So I hope you enjoy the story and let me know what you think!
Arrow and its characters don't belong to me and I'm not making any money with this. It's just for my own and, hopefully, your entertainment.
'I am my father'
When Tommy Merlyn lay dying in a crumbling house, the image of Laurel, trapped under debris, scared and frightened, fresh in his mind, he was glad. Glad it was him. Glad that he had saved her, that he didn't have to lose her and spend the rest of his life grieving and eventually be driven mad by her loss. Like his father the day his mother had died.
As a kid he couldn't understand it. Couldn't understand where his loving and caring father had gone. Why he had left him. He had already lost his Mum and now his Dad, too. And that was even worse, because his Mum didn't have a choice. She was dead and Tommy knew that she would come back in a heartbeat, had she the power to do so. But his Dad … his Dad had left, because he wanted to leave. He deliberately chose to leave Tommy. And that made everything so much more painful.
As a teenager he hated Malcolm. For abandoning him, for leaving when Tommy had needed him the most. And when he came back after two long years – two years filled with loneliness and sadness and emptiness – there was nothing. Nothing but coldness and indifference. It was like his father had become a completely different person. He wasn't grieving anymore or at least, he didn't show it. In fact, he didn't show any emotions. It was all an act. Tommy saw it in his eyes. Of course, Malcolm was polite and smiling and charming as ever, but none of it was real. There was a lingering coldness in his eyes that never left. Not for one second. If Tommy had to describe his father with one word, it would have been: cold. And angry. Oh, when Malcolm got angry, you didn't want to be near him. There was an all consuming rage storming in his normally ice cold eyes that had scared Tommy more than anything.
As an adult he didn't care anymore. His father didn't want, didn't need him, so Tommy sure as hell didn't need him either. He had his friends and the Queens, who became his new family, and later, he had Laurel. And wasn't she the most important of them all? So what did he care about his father? Why should he feel anything but hatred and disdain for him? The killer? The mass murderer? The cold hearted monster? But now, thinking of Laurel, knowing that he could have almost lost her ... there was a part of him that understood. Understood how his father had become someone else, something else. Why he did what he did. Because Tommy knew, if things were reversed, if it was Laurel lying here, dying, choking on her blood, he would have gone mad! Would have sworn revenge on those who had taken the love of his life from him. He would have destroyed every single one one of them!
So, at last, in his final moments on this earth he understood his father. Malcolm had loved Rebecca more than anything. Even more than his own son. Although that thought hurt, Tommy knew it was true and he was okay with it. Looking back now, every decision, every move his father had made in the last twenty years since his wife's death was because he couldn't take it. Couldn't face a world where his wife – his loving, caring, amazing wife – wasn't by his side. So the only thing he could do was to close himself off, to distant himself. From his friends, his family, his son. Become cold and unfeeling so he wouldn't break. Wouldn't drown in the overwhelming grief. Find a reason to live in the crusade to avenge his wife's death and to save his city by cleansing it of the people who hadn't cared for a dying woman in a dark alley.
And Tommy would have done exactly the same!