Oh, his dad was going to kill him for this! He stood outside the lair's entrance trying to prolong the calm before the storm. However, Onyx had other ideas. She shoved him through the door with her muzzle.
"Seriously?! Man, you're worse than my dad." He grumbled as he trudged along.
He found his dad circling the globe that sparkled with the lights of the children who believed in the guardians. He did not look happy.
"Where exactly have you been Phobos?" His father's tone was calm but full of anger and annoyance.
"Oh, you know, here, there. Out in the Redwood forest."
"And just why were you in the redwood forest?"
Phobos rolled his eyes, "Because I wanted to be."
"I've told you several times, you are not to go beyond Burgess."
"Well, I had Cthulu with me!" Phobos defended.
"That is irrelevant. She's just a foal." Pitch motion to her.
"Oh my God, dad! You are so over protective."
"You could have been hurt!"
"I was fine!"
"It's dangerous out there!"
"What's the danger?! I mean heaven forbid I get attacked by a giant chipmunk!"
"You're being irrational."
"Oh I'm being irrational! Ha! That's rich dad!" Phobos scoffed.
"Will you just listen to me?"
"No! I will not listen! Because everything you say is like a broken record. Want to know why I was at the redwoods? Huh, well, it was because of you. I needed space to breath properly without you looming over my shoulder watching everything I do." Phobos was getting angry he words dripped with venom. His aura changed to something darker, something sinister. The bullet was locked and loaded and he was ready to fire. All he needed was the trigger.
"Wha- I do not loom over your shoulder."
"Yes, you do and have ever since mom died! She understood me, she gave me the ability to go where I want, when I want. She was my light, and now that she's gone I will not let you and you darkness destroy my light!"
Pitch was dumbstruck. The words that spilled out of his child's mouth cut deeper than any knife. The tears that glistened on his son's cheeks were a reminder of the past. Pitch should have known the wounds of his mother's death hadn't healed yet. Things like that take time, and nine years just wasn't long enough. All the emotions welled up inside his son were escaping him, like Pitch, Phobos had a tendency to lash out when he's angry or upset, or stressed.
"I'm sorry, Phobos." Pitch said softly.
"Yeah, yeah. Me too." I had no right to say that."
"No, you had every right. I am a little overly protective." Pitch sat down beside his son.
"That's the understatement of the century."
They sat in silence. Until Pitch remembered something. "Oh, yeah. This arrived for you today." He held out an envelope.
"What is it?"
"Your Mom wanted you to go."
He watched as Phobos read the letter. "Dad, is this real?" Hope shining in his voice.
"As real as Cthulu."
