Godfather?
He couldn't help but stare up at the woman he called friend in utter disbelief. Godfather, Him?
Nyet! Nyet, Nyet, Nyet! Absolutely not!
Don't get him wrong, the Russian always had a soft spot for children, its just...
Children weren't save near him. He had far too many enemies who would happy target children just to get at him- Just look at what happened to his nephew. The poor boy would never quite be the same intelligible child he once knew.
Naming him Godfather- while a great honor in many ways- was like putting a walking target on the back of the child's head.
"Are you insane?! I'm not signing it. Find someone else."
His voice rose despite himself but she didn't seem all that effected by it, instead she just smiled with an amused glint in her eyes as she waved a document- the document -in front of his face.
"You already did."
In a swift moment he had snatched the papers away from as his eyes moved over each line until; there at the very bottom was his signature.
A signature he knew without a doubt he hadn't signed.
"You forged my signature."
That grin never faded as sky blue eyes pierced gold before a sight shift had him glancing down at his hands only to find the documents missing from his vice like hold.
For a moment he just stared in slight disbelief- How the hell?- before glancing up in time to see that crazy woman rushing out of the room with the papers in hand.
Azrael was nothing like the Red he once knew.
The child had similarities, yes, but he wasn't the original:
Red wasn't shy, he didn't second guess himself, he didn't stutter in moments of pressure, and the Russian sure as hell didn't apologize. The rogue was a sharp witted jaded monster, who would happy tear another limb from limb in some of his worst days, not this innocent child who sat next to him; avoiding his gaze out of guilt for getting them both into one hell of a fight.
Azrael wasn't Red, not the one he once knew, but the younger rouge defiantly had the Russian's sense of pride- especially when it concerned family.
Maybe it was for the best if Azrael stayed and Red didn't wake up?
...
...
Honestly, Buck felt as though he could live with that.
Seeing his brother sitting there like that- avoiding his gaze while shifting on the spot- Francis couldn't help but be reminded of other days. Days were they were both young, full of childlike innocence and in his younger brother's case:
Sanity.
It had been so long ago that he had all but forgotten that guilty look the smaller would give him when caught 'exploring' or testing the patients of the Fates. It was the same look the younger had given him when Francis had discovered the other trying to remove the feathers of a hawk's tail as it slept, It was the same look he had gotten when he caught the smaller trying to outrun the midmorning train and when he tried to smuggle a wolf pup into their home.
Honestly it was a look for when his brother's unnatural lack of fear and self perseverance got the best of him.
Thankfully it didn't seem to be the case this time but still just seeing that look...
It reminded him a lot of whole the his younger brother had been before becoming a monster.
Maybe it was a fools hope but a large part of Francis couldn't help but hope that the child he once knew was still in there.
Somewhere.
And if it wasn't?
Well Red would always be his brother no matter what path he chose to walk.