The History Of Marron

Chapter 28: My name is Maxwell Banks!

A/N: Flashback chapter, the childhood of Maxwell Banks.

He had a bad day again. No one wanted to be his friend, viewing him as socially awkward. For a kid school was supposed to be fun, but not for him, nor was home a safe place for him.

They entered the apartment to find his father slump on the couch snoring loudly as drool dripped from his mouth like a broken faucet. An empty beer can hanging loosely from his hands as the television played the latest program.

He pulled his hoodie further over his head, hoping to hide the bruise on his cheek. Knowing once his father noticed he had gotten bullied again he wouldn't just call him a wuss.

The five year old scurried off to his room while his mother sighed before following him.

"Hey champ," she began as soon as she silently entered the room.

A bit alarmed to find her following him he jumped and turned around to face her. His tears hadn't gone undetected, the hood not being able to cover his entire face. She frowned before taking out a tissue from her pocket and began wiping his face.

He didn't respond to her.

"Cute boys like yourself shouldn't cry," his mother said soothingly. Removing the hoodie from his head.

He wiped the remaining tears from his face and snot with his long sleeve jacket.

"What do you want for your birthday?" She attempted another conversation. Trying to change the subject on a sensitive issue he didn't like discussing when she tried to address it.

His face shot up, he stared at his mother's sweet blue eyes.

"I-I...want papa gone..." he mumbled lowly.

She didn't have his words faze her, she felt it right for a young child like himself wanting to rid that monster in disguise as a human.

But she felt some tears paint her cheeks as she bent low and hugged him, brushing his blonde hair with her hand and whispering "okay."

She caressed his cheeks, he winced and she apologized before looking him straight in the eye and pressing her forehead against his, "he'll be gone...I-I'll make sure of it."

"I love you mommy," he whispered and she whispered it back to him. She kissed his forehead before gathering her composure, wiping her tears along with tucking a piece of blonde hair behind her ear and taking in a breath as she exited the room.

He was changed into fresh new clothes minutes later and when he exited his room he found his father stirring. He felt his breath hitch and already felt his legs ready to retreat back to his room.

"Hey little man get me another beer will ya," his father asked as his heart skipped a beat, he had been stalling too long to retreat that he wasn't aware when his father had gained full consciousness.

He made his way to the kitchen ready to complete his father's order knowing if he didn't there will be consequences.

"I think you had enough for today," his mother interjected making him stop in his tracks.

He flinched as his father stood up and threw the can across the room, "I decide when I had enough!" He shouted as a hiccup escaped his throat.

"Now get me me a beer boy!"

He did a sudden jump at the shout and almost could've teleported to the fridge on how fast he ran to it. He was pleased to find one left, when they ran out it was never a good day to be home.

He made his way to the man who now found comfort on the couch again his body shaking with each step that brought him near him.

"Hurry up slow poke!"

He quickened his steps and found his arm stretching and handing him the can while his body stood a safe distance.

He snatched the can from his grasp and almost let him off the hook till he found the bruise on his cheek.

"Come here," he ushered.

The boy quivered.

"Don't have me repeat myself boy," he said sternly, his piercing blue eyes staring into his soul.

The boy cautiously moved closer but it didn't stop his father from roughly grabbing hold of his hand.

"Who did this to you?!"

Silence.

He twisted his son's hand.

"K-kids," he uttered through his pain.

"See! I told you Myra that he's too much of a wuss," he exclaimed before getting up from the couch and slamming the can on the coffee table.

His mother who had been preparing dinner walked slowly towards the two as she wiped her hands on the apron wrapped around her waist.

"He's five years old Tyler, now let his hand go."

He seemed to have failed to hear his girlfriend's command as he kept his hold on his son's hand.

"If we got married he wouldn't have been bullied, we could be a happy family and I would teach him to defend himself."

"We can't be a happy family because you have issues," she told him as calmly as possible.

She reached out to pull his hands off her son's hand. But he put some distance between her.

"Marry me."

She shook her head no before giving an audible one.

He crushed his son's hand and in response Max yelled out in pain before asking her again.

"Let him go!" She shrieked as she made her way slowly towards them, hoping he would relax.

She shrieked louder than before as he let go of his hand but grabbed hold of his small neck.

"Marry me," he repeated.

She felt the tears running down her face as she watched her son try his best to fight his way out his father's tight grip. Clawing at him with his tiny nails at his father's arms in attempt to have him let him go, his efforts were effortless. But she knew if she said yes she would never rid of him like she was supposed to ages ago when he became violent after she let him back into their life. He was using her, ever since high school to get into her pants and after he managed that Maxwell came along and then she kicked him out when he couldn't handle to life of a father, but let him back once he claimed he changed but that was just to get back in her pants.

"Let him go," she repeated herself, her voice shaky as she grabbed hold of his arm. He let go of his suffocating son and he dropped hard on the wooden floor with a Thump! As though he was a rag doll. Coughing uncontrollably as he tried to gulp as much breaths of air his little mouth could grasp.

Myra found herself slapping Tyler's chest uncontrollably before he in turn grabbed her neck.

"Ma...ma," his raspy voice uttered as his vision fogged and his head felt heavy. The last thing he saw was his mother's hand reaching out as if to grab his while he did the same, his weak body shaking as he completed the action.

"Max," she choked out.

Darkness.

He came to hours later, the room was dark and it seemed like no human being was in sight. He got up from his forced sore sleep on the wooden floor and fetched some water for his raw throat.

He searched throughout the house after his drink to find all the rooms pitch black and empty. He began to panic as he tried to recall the last thing he saw before he blacked out.

He began to pack a bag as he planned to search for his mother, knowing his father played a role on her untimely disappearance. And when he did step out the door to go look for her he regretted one thing he didn't do, call the cops.

...

He had searched everywhere he possibly knew in his neighborhood, but all he found was a shady old man with a large white mustache following him. He was terrified as he tried to ditch the guy, wondering why he had decided to run out and do the police's job. But his mother was his light, the only thing perfect that came out of his existence, but at the same time he wanted to leave that house full of misery.

He found himself backed up in a corner screaming for someone's help, but as he never found anyone who cared enough to help him he found himself facing a terrible wrath. Just having woken up from being almost strangled to death he blacked out again once a cloth filled with a bit of chloroform reached his lips and attacked his nostrils.

He didn't know how long it had been when he came to the second time, he just knew he was crying uncontrollably as he rocked his body back and forth on a lab table only in his briefs wanting to go home and be with his mother in a tight embrace. He couldn't find himself to look at all the sharp scary tools and gadgets laying neatly at a table near him, he just hoped that none of that would touch him. The door to the room he was being kept in opened as the old man entered and in an instant he found himself jumping off the cold metal table and ran. He managed to make it out the door and what he saw were large tubes shaped like oval coffins with numbers like 17 and 18 on them. Though his little brain couldn't grasp all that was happening and if this was reality or not he knew be had to escape.

He saw a robot appear in front of him, blocking him from freedom. He tried to slide under it but failed horribly, his broken hand didn't help. He began thrashing once the robot got hold of him and brought him back to the room he had just ran out of. He was back on the metal table being restrained by the robot.

"Now without any further delay I would like to sedate you before beginning this operation."

Maxwell not understanding his vocabulary looked up at the old man with a quizzical and fearful look mixed together but knew whatever that old man told him was not going to be good.

"Your new name will be Kid as no one will ever expect a child of your age to commit villainous acts. And your goal if those twin androids fail will be to kill Son Goku," he explained his plan thoughtfully.

"My name's Maxwell Banks!"

"Yes, well that information such as your previous life will be pushed back to the farthest part of your brain which can have a large possibility of making you go insane when trying to reach it."

"Take me back to my mother and I promise I won't tell the cops about you," he begged, pulling at his last strings.

The doctor laughed at the child's words before signaling the robot to sedate him.

"Such baby threats doesn't faze me my dear boy, just relax while I make you stronger and maybe you can finally protect your mother from that father of yours."

Max felt alarmed, wondering how had this guy been following him as he assumed that today was the first time he ever saw the man. Though he wanted to protect his mother and seek revenge from the pain his father caused not only him and his mother to suffer from he sure didn't want to endure what was coming.

The needle drew closer and he flinched.

My name is Maxwell Banks, I am five years old, I am going to be six in a few days, my mommy has long blonde hair and blue eyes. She is throwing me a birthday party and my dad will be gone forever. I will live happily ever after.

The needle inched closer to his bare forearm and he screeched as he began to cry, he despised needles and he felt that everything he was wishing wasn't happening to him was for real. He began to thrash again but the robot held him down with an even more powerful grip.

"Don't worry, it would only hurt a lot if you keep moving."

"No!" He shouted not ready to accept this bizarre fate, he attempted to kick the old man but wasn't successful as his short little legs only managed to hit the air.

My name is Maxwell Banks, I am five years old, I am going to be six in a few days, my mommy has long blonde hair and blue eyes. She is throwing me a birthday party and my dad will be gone forever. I will live happily ever after. His mind repeated.

His body began to go numb as the doctor pinched the needles in several areas of his skin, he seemed to not care an ounce of the little boy's tears, the tears that said your robbing his future and sanity.

"You'll be Android Kid or Android 22," he said proudly before bringing the anesthesia mask to his face.

Mommy please don't leave me. Mommy please wait for me. The last thoughts swarming through his mind before the operation.