Notes:

CorbyinOz2's response to Dear John.

Chapter 2: Letters Part 1: Dear Dad (by CorbyinOz2)

Dear Dad,

Wow. I really fucked up this time, didn't I? You told me not to, so I did. I guess that's been the story of my life, really, and now I don't know if there's going to be much more of it left.

I am legit scared. Really, really scared. It's dark in here and they've been all over me like a dose of the plague since they brought me here. I keep telling myself, 'superficial'. It's superficial stuff, burns and cuts and a couple of breaks, nothing that won't heal. It just feels bad, real bad, but I've done enough training with Virgil to know what's dangerous and what can kinda be fought through.

You'd fight through. There's nothing that stops you. I can't imagine what you'd be thinking, if you were here. Well, sure, you wouldn't be here in the first place. You'd never take the risk, you'd never be that fucking crazy. I don't know if I'll ever see you again, because I don't know what these assholes want with me or even if they're part of the people you were giving me all those not so subtle hints about. I just know I had to try.

I wish you'd talked straight to me. Maybe if you told me that these guys were out there, worse than the war itself, maybe I wouldn't have come?

Or yeah, maybe that's bullshit and I would've been here even faster. It's just – I wanted to do my bit. I know you think that I'm too young, and I've got brothers to protect, but Dad, I had to try and do something. You heard what they did on the Bereznik border, right? Did you hear what we did? Has that got back there yet? It was worth the risk. Because we did it, we made a difference like you're always saying we should. I just chose to do it in a way that wasn't what you had in mind.

I'm writing this in my head. What a laugh, hey? But whenever I go to see you, I write things down first. Because I need to be sure about my points, because you always kinda overwhelm me. You stand up there, so tall and unafraid and certain, and everything in my head turns to mush.

So now I'm writing this in my head because I don't have any other way of straightening out my thoughts. It's getting harder and harder to think, and I've never been this alone in my life – Christ, with our family, you kidding? – and it scares me so bad if I saw anyone I knew right now I think I'd start crying like a little kid.

I can imagine what you'd be doing if you were here. You would be on your feet, you'd be demanding to see someone and you'd just be overwhelming them with the power of You. You wouldn't be – yeah, shit, I'm crying. You wouldn't be crying, and you wouldn't be scared, and you wouldn't be thinking about home and missing it so bad it hurts more than what they're doing. You'd hear them coming down the corridor and you'd be all, "About time! Kept me waiting, jerks!" You'd take their worst and say, "That the best you got?"

You wouldn't be scared of the darkness. You wouldn't be scared when the light shows under the door and you know what's coming next.

Well, I'm not doing that, Dad. I want the cavalry and I want my brothers and I want you real bad.

These guys? They're monsters.

You've never been scared of monsters. When I was a kid and scared of what lived under the bed, you gave me a flashlight and said have a look. You could face anything. I wish I told you I never did look. I wish I told you I kept that flashlight under my pillow and every night said a stupid charm I made up to keep the monster at bay. Wish I told you so many things.

I wish you told me things too. I know you've got scars. Where did you get them? Did you feel as bad as I do right now when they happened? Huh. Of course not. You're the original 'It's just a scratch' guy, aren't you? You've never known what it is to feel broken. And that's what I am, and I don't know what's going to be left of me after. I don't want you to see that. I don't want you to know. Or maybe I do? Maybe some honesty at the end. Yeah, you had a son, and he wasn't worth much, wasn't too brave or smart or good, and he didn't do what he was told, but he tried to do something big just once.

Well, I'm sorry the kids are gonna be so scared and worried.

Dad? Don't be hard on them. Not everyone's like you. Some of us are flesh and blood.

Ha. Right now, a lot of blood.

We can't all be Scott Carpenter Tracy. But I gotta tell you, I wish you were coming through that door right now.

I miss you, Dad. And I know we don't say it much, or ever, god, not like Gordon and his kids, or Virgil, but – I love you. I'm so sorry.

Your son.