Disclaimer: I don't own F.E.A.R.
Pain. Unbearable pain. For every bullet, a mark. For every mark, her heart endured pain. Alma walked forward, her spectral form glancing at her son. Her firstborn son. Every time she wanted to see him, he shot, as if he feared her. As the bullets sang through the air, they seemed to scream, "Stay away from me!", and it hurt. All she wanted to do was get close, to hug her baby boy, no longer a baby. To whisper that everything would be alright.
Of course, being a spectral image created by her own psychic powers, Alma couldn't be hurt by the bullets, but more what they meant. Her firstborn was afraid of her. Afraid she'd harm him, perhaps. Or maybe kill him like she did his teammates. She wouldn't hurt him. She loved her son, and she wanted him to know that. Paxton knew and understood, why couldn't her firstborn?
When her father set her free, she melted him into a gleaming pool of blood. He hadn't even put up a fight. Out of the corner of her eyes, Alma saw. Her firstborn had seen what happened to Harlan. She sensed his fear of her, his mother. He stared through the glass window on the door, she stared back. Smiling, Alma walked ever closer, but stopped when she heard the sound of a gun reloading. He was going to shoot at her. Again. "I love you," Alma whispered, a tear silently sliding down her face. She walked away, disappearing into the dark void of the Origin facility. Soon, she would have her revenge. Armacham Technology Corporation would pay. Everyone involved would pay. She could finally be free to convince her firstborn that she loved him. That she would never hurt him.
When the Origin facility exploded, Alma moved fast to protect her only living child. Paxton was dead, her connection with him had been cut, but she had not realized that until after she got out. After she felt the sweet caress of the wind on her face, the warmth of the sun on her body, the feel of the cool pavement beneath her feet. Just as the debris and dust was about to overcome the Point Man, Alma wrapped him in a cocoon of psychic powers. When the dust and debris settled, the shield fell, rendering the Point Man unconscious. Alma walked over, took off her son's mask, kissed his forehead gently, put the mask back on, and whispered, "Be safe, my baby."
When the helicopter came, Alma decided to see her son one last time. Getting into the helicopter, she gave him a smile before leaving, her heart burdened with sadness, pain, and loneliness. Would she ever see him again? One day, would she be able to spend time with him, exploring the world that was so new to her? As the chopper faded over the horizon, Alma turned away. Her time for revenge had come.
