A/N: So, what with school being over and whatnot, I am watching a lot more TV than usual (zOMG!). And I recently caught Two Fathers, One Son on Sci-Fi, I think, which kind of spurred this story. In that hospital scene, CSM seemed to be kind of pathetic and selfish. He wants what everyone else wants. So that's kind of what this is. I don't know if it's in character AT ALL, but you know, whatever. It's also unbetaed, so apologies for the errors.
He sees the world in black and white. He controls it. Maybe that's why he thinks he has the right to be selfish. They all allowed themselves the right of selfishness. But he—he's the one who ended up having to deal with the consequences.
In her hospital room, as his ex-wife is half strung out on sedatives, he tries to come to terms with it all. He tries to give her—give all of them—some sort of closure. He wants her to know his intentions. I never wanted to hurt you. You or Jeffrey. Even in his head, the words sound cliché and untrue. She laughs, a bitter sound, and he realizes that he's ended up hurting them both more than he could ever imagine. Cutting the nose off to spite the face.
He doesn't even try to say anything. I'm not here to defend myself. A quick cop-out and the cigarette goes back in his mouth. It's a security gesture, an action he knows will place him in the proper frame of mind for this. He doesn't even believe he's addicted. Not really. The only ties he has are with the feeling it projects onto him. He smiles.
They were in love once. Or something incredibly close to it. He remembers them in their younger years. Not thirties. Twenties. Late teens. Before he became entangled in the great government conspiracy. Before his life started going to hell. Before he became pathetic. She was beautiful once, and happy. That was before the countless abductions, the tests.
An abduction here, a burning cornfield there. Sooner or later, it all starts to add up to real lives.
He wanted to keep her safe. In his head, the words don't sound that genuine. But he did. Once upon a time. He had the ability to love, or at least recognize it. He remembers their engagement, their marriage, Jeffrey's birth. He vaguely recalls the pride of fatherhood washing over him. He's not proud of anything anymore except maybe his project. His beloved project. Maybe he just wants to see it finished out of spite. If you're going to ruin someone's life, do it completely or don't do it at all. He always hated incomplete works.
He throws the cigarette on the ground and stubs it out with his foot. He's somewhat near the oxygen tanks. He has the ability to end life, take it away as quickly as he destroyed them. He wonders when he's become the stereotypical evil villain.
Taciturn, smoking a cigarette, bribery, blackmail, murder. It's all gone to hell. His life, the project, his family.
I wanted to save you.
Somewhere within him, beneath all the layers of tough exterior that his decades on the project have helped create, he knows he's an idealist. Somewhere within him, he still believes in love. Or, at least, extreme loyalty. He would have sacrificed the world. He did sacrifice the world. Sacrificed the world to save her. Even if it meant she would live a miserable life.
I did it to save you.
The excuse is flimsy to his ears, but that's what makes it genuine.
He thinks in black and white. He thinks in black and white because he is black and white.
He leaves as indifferently as he entered.