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From what I can remember, I spent most of my life fighting. No matter where we seemed to go, some opposing force always followed. Mother used to say that I was like Father in that sense, because I'm always fighting for something. I don't remember who he was. He was tall, with blonde hair and crystal blues eyes. I could never forget those blue eyes that stared down at me. They always beamed with love and pride. That, however, is all I rememeber.
I had heard that Zero and a group of Longcoatrs would be making their way through the forest soon. No doubt, they were still slaving for Azkadellia.
My men were ready. The plan was all set up. Play innocent and then ambush. Resistors were strategically placed in such a way that the Longcoats would be surrounded. Our plan was fool proof.
Our cart was turned over and we pretended to be cleaning up. I offered Zero water for the horses. I dared not look him in the eye for fear that he would remember me. A part of me also feared losing control of my anger and rage. According to my mother, I also got that from my father.
He kicked the bucket out of my hands and the fight began. Everyone knew Zero was mine. No questions asked. I pulled him off the horse and to the ground while the others attacked from all sides. Like I said, fool proof.
Once all was calmed I took note of the prisoners. A few were unrecognizable, one was a Viewer, the other a Headcase. The final one made my heart jump.
It was my father.
I removed the cloak from my head. "Father." He looked up at me. Only then did I know that it was him. Not a single feature had changed, he was still the man that had tucked me in before bed or taught me to whittle horses.
"Son."
That was still the voice that had read to me every night, the same one that yelled bloody murder the day Zero and the Longcoats raided our house.
Shock temporarily took over my body as I reacquainted myself with the presence of the man I called my father. Once the paralytic sensation wore off I called for them to be released.
The confining metal had been removed and he made his way over to me.
"Jeb... Is that really you?"
At this moment, my voice decided to become shy and all I could do was nod. My eyes stood locked onto his face, his voice was not enough for me. Life has taught me to believe in the tangible and nothing more.
He must've have been thinking the same thing as his hand reached out and touched my face.
"We...I.." Still my words wouldn't make themselves known. Again he read my thoughts and took me aside, away from the staring eyes.
A day was not enough to make up for the lost years. This was an obvious fact for the both of us. I figured I'd start at the tough stuff and work my way down.
"Mother is dead." The dry, fragile words were not the ones I wanted to start with.
"I know. I'm sorry."
"She wanted me to tell you that she loved you. And she wanted me to give you this." I handed him a seeled letter. Mother had given it to me just days before her death. Although I never read it, I always had it on me. Just in case.
He accepted the letter bittersweetly.
"You know he killed her right?" I kept going without letting him answer. "He showed up with the Longcoats. Mother begged him to let you out of that forsaken prison. All he did was hit. I hear her screams even now. Then, finally, after what felt like hours of watching him torture her..he...he."
"Jeb...You don't have to.."
"NO! He killed her. Zero snapped her neck and left her there." The tears held back for so long could no longer be contained. "When they left, I dug her grave. I HAD TO BURY HER!! ALONE!!"
This probably was not the time to bring this subject up, it had only been a few minutes since this man was resurrected from my past. Still I needed to tell someone who would understand completely. Someone who could honestly tell that what we were fighting for would prevail. Even though it had been years, my father, Wyatt Cain, was the only person who would be able to say these things to me.
I found myself sobbing violently in his arms. It reminded me of the time I broke mother's favorite vase and didn't tell her. I felt so guilty I moped for days.
"It's not your fault Jeb. This is no one's fault."
"I should've fought for her."
"Had you done that do you really think you'd be standing here next to me?" Point well made.
I figured it was time to end this maddness. Drying my own tears, I began to walk away.
'Where are you going Jeb?" He asked as I walked passed him.
"It's time to end this Father. I'm going to see Zero."