---Hey there everyone. This is gonna be my second Teddy fic. I plan to write maybe 1 or 2 more after this. My first Teddy fic., Jumper got good reviews (thanks to everyone who reviewed) so I decided to attempt a second one. This one is gonna be about how Teddy sees himself and his father...I'm not sure that I really like this fic. and I debated not posting it at all, but I figured what the hell...Anyway...Leave a review and tell me what you think. I don't own the song The General by Dispatch. Sweet Dreams---
The General
There was a decorated General
With a heart of gold
That likened him to all the stories he told,
Of past battles won and lost
And legends of old
A seasoned veteran in his own time
I always wanted to be a soldier, a war hero like my father. If it wasn't for my stupid eyes and ears I like to think that I would have made a pretty good soldier.
My father, who has been up in Togus for most of my life, didn't give his life for his country, but he might as well have. Sometimes I think he would have been better off dying in the war. Is that a horrible thing to think? To almost wish your father was dead, instead of insane?
My mother tells me that my father was a good man, before he went to war that is. She says that I look like him when he was younger, and even some of the things I say remind her of him. I have no way of knowing if this is true or not. The only father I've ever known has been clinically insane. But God do I admire that man.
The Old General tossed in his sleep
And wrestled with his meaning.
It's kind of hard to understand why, and I myself often wonder why I love a man that tried to kill me. But what I feel goes beyond love. I honestly admire him. When I was younger and teachers asked who my hero was, I immediately said my father.
The way I see it, it's not his fault he is the way he is. He must of left everything that was good in him on that fucking beach in Normandy. Leaving me with a shell of the man he used to be, a poor excuse for a father. And most of the time I'm fine with that.
And I have discovered that
This fight is not worth fighting.
All though, there are other times, at night mostly, when I almost resent my father and what he is, what he has become...even what he did. I think that I must be out of my fucking mind to want to be anything like him...or do anything like him. But thankfully those times are few and far between.
And despite all these mixed up feelings, or maybe it's because of them...I want my father to be proud of me. I want him to look at me with approval, instead of a blank stare...
All the men held tall
With their chests in the air
With the courage in their blood
And a fire in their stare.
So Take a shower, shine your shoes
You got no time to lose.
You are young men you must be living.
Go now you are forgiven...