I finally did it! I wrote up the fifth chapter and it almost killed me! Christ, why is action so hard to write? The drama I had down to a T, I got good chunks of that pre-written, but action is still my weak point. It never lives up to my expectations, while drama (and romance, which I'm kinda known for normally) are easy to churn out. I don't know, maybe I should practice by writing out a graphic description of a bi-sected human and try find inventive ways of detailing how the body is ripped apart.
I'm rambling, aren't I? Ignore me. Enjoy the final chapter! (excluding the epilogue, obviously!)
I could blow up the truck, kill him, make it looks like an accident...
"No... No, that's... That's not true!"
I'm not about to let some rabid dog kill him! Only I get to end his life!
"THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!"
Damn it! He isn't here! I need to find him. I won't be denied my vengence!
"You're not my father! You're not! YOU'RE NOT HIM!"
Hot tears poured down Grimm's face, dripping over the battered skull that adorned his face, trembling as he reeled from this horrific statement. This man, this cold hearted man of few words and so much hate, was not the father who loved him. The father who was teaching at Beacon, who cared greatly for his wife and son, who would never seek to harm his boy no matter what he was. "You're not him! My father is a teacher, he's a good man, he loves me! He's not YOU! HE'S NOT YOU!" To say he was being delusional was an understatement. Part of him knew, deep down, his mother had been lying to him all those years ago. Knew that his father wasn't here, wasn't teaching, wasn't alive and well and waiting for his son to show up and make him proud of all his heroic acts. He knew his father was dead, but his heart had other plans. It clung to that ideal, that fantasy, the last good thing in his life after it all went to hell, and brought him here, now, on this very day. To find his father, to show him how strong he was, to have a family, a real family, outside of the primal survival that the Grimm had instilled in his mind. But hearing this, a truth he prayed was a lie, threatened to shatter that illusion. Threatened to destroy the last good thing in his life and replace it with this repugnant, bitter, evil man infront of him. The man he'd known as a father would never do this. Would never lie to him, never hurt him, would love him. This man, smirking, laughing, enjoying his pain... He would NEVER be his father. "Believe me, I wish it wasn't true either." The old man shrugged, his smile fading to a look of pure disappointment. "Do you think I'd really want a monster like you as a child? Who'd want a son that went around killing every one? You may not think I know, but I know better than you do. All you've ever done is kill. It's all you know. And it's about time someone put you down instead." His aim was steady, unrelenting, unwavering, barrel lined up perfectly with the boy's brow. He had no intention of missing.
"I bet you're wondering... How could I know? We've never met, not like this anyway, but I knew who you were the second you mentioned Vacuo. I was going to kill you until you mentioned that, figured you were one of those animal people causing trouble, but I knew I had to keep you alive once it all began clear." Bitter irony kicks Grimm in the stomach once again. Had he not mentioned him home, not given him that knowledge, he would've fought. Grimm would've killed him where he stood, ripped out his spine and left him to rot, and everything would've been avoided! No pain, no confession, no suffering a long trip with a man who wished to kill him anyway, it would've been so much simpler to just end the entire ordeal then. But he'd spoken, apparently changing the man's plans, and was being tortured for it. Being punished. Benjamin spread his arms, mocking, aware that his victim had no strength left to fight him, grinning as he did. "See, I see this as a divine intervention. I never was a religious person, but this? This right here?" Fingers flicked between the two before raising his arms higher. "This is nothing short of a miracle. After all these years, all these days of knowing I'd done wrong back then, I can finally make things right! Every cut, every bruise, every SECOND you're in pain, it's what you deserve for what you are!" The old coot's face stretched into an insane grin, eyes wild, taking deep pleasure in the entire situation. His stoic nature was now lost, replaced with a disturbing level of rabid enjoyment in the pain of who was supposedly his own flesh and blood. He cackled, loving it, bathing in Grimm's agony, in his disgust, and continued on his rant. "There never was an evacuation! Never was going to be innocent people running for their lives here, I just said that because I KNEW you'd not be able to resist coming here to hurt them! I'm no fool, I knew what you were the day you were born and should've made you suffer back then! But now I can make you pay for your sins! Pay for every life you ended, every soul you tainted, like the demon you are!"
Choking back the pain, shaking his head in disbelief, Grimm tried to find the words to get answers. Tried to find what to say. Instead, he only succeed in sounding like a scolded child, begging his parents to forgive him. "How... H-How do you... Why do you hate me..?" Blind eyes looked for an answer they could never find, body quivering, heart broken, stomach knotting up, what little soul he had dying inside of him. How was it possible to never know someone and be resented so much that they want you to feel like this? Hadn't he suffered enough!? Within the last hour, he'd be bitten, cut, bruised, broke bones, battered, nearly squashed several times, and been forcibly made human, enduring the pain of thousands within just a small space of time, within seconds of feeling like others did again. How was this fair! Why did he deserve to be afflicted with this curse, with this torture, after all these years? The pensioner before him didn't seem amused at his question, as if the word 'hate' wasn't strong enough to describe the malice within his soul. "Why? Because you're a sick psychopath who hurts others for fun." He scoffed, acting as if the answer was obvious. But there was no emotional connection, no real drive to push a man to... Well, this version of insanity. Despite his like for the boy, however, he seemed to be willing to tell him the truth. Though likely only to see him hurt more... "I knew your first victim. Married to her. She was my wife, pregnant with my son..." His eyes fell, a scowl across his face, as he recalled the past Grimm never knew.
"Pregnant with you."
"Béni! Béni! Come quickly, the baby's kicking!" They were outside, having gone for a small walk, a little exercise and fresh air, just to get away from the house. Velvet locks of silken hair caught in the wind, an exhausted woman resting against a small wall as her hands lay on her stomach. Her husband, jet black hair, looking sharp in a crisp white suit, rushed to her side. "Maria, what is it! Is he okay? Nothing's wrong, is there!?" Typical of him... It was adorable, really, watching him panic over the baby so easily. The second she'd told him she was expecting, he'd practically locked her up and tried to guard her from nature itself! But it was that caring, protective, perhaps a little obsessive part of him she loved. He was a good man, someone who would never let you down, never break your trust, and would never leave you when you needed him most. With a playful chuckle, she flicked his nose with a single finger, forcing a sharp gasp of pain from him. "It's all fine, you big old doof! But he's kicking! Quick, feel! Feel!" A giggle, sweet enough to kill a man, followed as she gripped his wrist and softly placed digits acrossed her hefty gut. She wouldn't deny she felt like an balloon at times, every inch of her sore and swollen and having to pee SO MANY TIMES, which was perhaps her biggest bug bear, but she wanted this. It'd be worth it in the end. Their son, they're beautiful boy, would have all the love he needed. She could take care of him, rest, take her time going back to working, and Béni would cover the expenses while she did. Being a big shot lawyer, even if he had only recently started before they conceived, had a few benefits. Sure, he'd be drowning in paperwork, but he never failed to make time for his wife. Little things, breakfast in bed on a weekend, flowers as an apology for being home late, post-it notes left here and there telling her she looked beautiful despite her feeling ugly in her current state. She felt blessed, lucky to have found someone so willing to share his heart with her. It had been a rough road, love very rarely was smooth sailing, but this would be the last time she'd ever need to give her heart away. She regretted nothing, happy, content, now with a family on its way...
Life was perfect. Beyond perfect.
The black haired man softly caressed the bump before him, waiting, unconsciously holding his breath, till a gentle tap echoed across his palm. Huffing, gasping, shocked and smiling, his eyes lit up with glee. "I felt it! I felt it! That's my boy! A fighter, he's gonna come out of there screaming his lungs out and looking for a challenge!" Maria rolled her eyes, fingers stroking through the short, slick hair of his beloved. He acted like this every time there was a kick. Anything baby related happened, boom, husband. Any twinge, any kick, any random mood swing, he was right there... Or right off, depending on the mood swing in question! Well, she was fine having him escape if she got snappy. Better to be angry he's absent than to accidentally get into a fight with him. As adorable as it was to see him reduced to a cheerful dad every time the baby kicked, she preferred the baby didn't use her bladder as a punching bag! Pregnancy, while ending with a beautiful baby boy she'd love till the day she died, was pure hell when you were the one carrying the child. She'd even called other women out on it, never one to keep her opinions to herself, refusing to believe in the 'miracle' of childbirth when she'd woken up at six in the morning to use the bathroom, ate half her weight in dill pickles, been angry, depressed, then angry again (with a hint of arousal she refused to acknowledge!), and all of this while aching in every inch of her body. Still... Least she knew her baby was in good hands when he was born. "So, hun, I was thinking... Did you think of any names today? I mean, you've been kinda name crazy recently and I haven't really decided yet myself." Her husband's attention shot from the belly he petted to lock into fusca eyes. He was practically exploding with excitement... Oh boy... "Abraham sounds good! Oh! Or David! Christian is a strong name, or maybe Alexander! Stephen, with a ph, not a v. Oh, oh! Or maybe something a little different, like Mars or Francœur!"
Another eye roll, another long day of having him ramble off names. It kept him busy, and was cute at first, but now it was more a distraction to keep his brain occupied off of panicking. She was reaching her due date, so could pop any day soon, and he'd gotten a little restless with the entire matter. She understood he just wanted them both to be safe but, slowly leading him back home, it was a little excessive at times. Sure, this wasn't Atlas. They didn't have the best technology in the entire world, but it wasn't like she was about to give birth surrounded by Grimm! Even if she was, it was a safe bet he'd protect her to his dying breath. He was good like that... And a little stupid, if she were to be honest. Passing the roses she loved so much, it seemed he'd finally ran out of name ideas and was just listing what he was looking at. While 'Thorn' had the capability of sounding like a good name, who in the right mind would call their son 'Porch'?! "Benji. Sweetie. I think your brain needs a bit of a rest. You're talking crazy again." Tittering, she watched as he shot puppy dog eyes her way. "Maria!" He whined. "I told you not to call me that! It makes me sound like your dog." She unlocked the front door, pushing into their living room, head shaking in amusement. "If you were my dog, I'd have less of a mess to deal with! But, if it means being married to you instead of a dog, I guess I'll take my chances." Spinning on her heels, she leant in and gave him a quick peck on the lips, smiling warmly as she did. Béni flustered, still not used to such sudden and public displays of affection. At least, not while he was aware of them, obsessive belly rubbing and babbling nonsense to it being completely find in his baby drunk mind. Maria didn't have much planned for today, waddling into the living room and slumping on the couch with a relieve sigh. Her feet screamed in pain, but she knew she'd have to get up at some point soon. Even if it was just to go to bed. "So, did the doctors say anything about what he might inherit? I mean, you said your father had a semblance but you never showed any signs of one... You think he'll maybe be lucky enough to join Beacon or..?" Béni perched on the sofa's arm, looking down at a wife who'd seen easier days, eyes sparkling in wonder and curiosity. Brushing a few stray stands of hair from her face, she shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, daddy always swore I had a gift but I think he was hoping I did... Maybe he'll end up like us? I mean, it'd be safer, right? No hunting Grimm, no deadly missions, no chance of us hearing second hand that he's gone..." A firm hand came down on her shoulder, gently squeezing as she glanced up to meet the comforting smile of her spouse. "Sweetheart... If he's got the abilities, if he can save people, be a hero, we can't stop him. People with a semblance, they always end up finding their way into trouble like it was their fate. It's better we let him be ready and be proud of him than try to prevent him from finding his place in the world. And if he's like me, I'll make sure he can look after himself regardless! It'll be fine, I promise." She knew he was right. She didn't want to admit it, ever the panicking parent, but she knew it. But what proper parent didn't want to protect their child? Didn't worry about them? She just wanted her little boy to be safe, to outlive them before, maybe start a family too, and she'd be happy. And she knew, somehow, that everything, would be-
"I think my water just broke."
A disaster. Everything would be a disaster! They weren't even close to the hospital and the baby was on the way and the sofa was stained and WHY did she wear her favorite Summer dress today!? Bolting off the sofa like someone had just stabbed him in the rear, her husband was understandably panicked as well. "What!? REALLY!? Oh! Oh, uh, I-I erm... I'll call the doctor! No, no, that'll take time. AH! We'll take the bus! Wait, that's stupid..." Of all times for Béni to lose his ability for thought, she begged to know why at this exact second. A hand shot out to latch onto his wrist, fingers digging into the arm of his shirt, a vice like grip to yank him down to her level. "Benji... Baby... Listen to me closely." She tried to stay calm. She really did! But, when you've got a little person trying to violently force their way out of bad places, your patience tends to run the opposite direction. "GET THE DAMN CAR!" Benjamin pulled back, looking as if a lightbulb had just been turned on somewhere inside him, and snatched the keys from the fireplace. "Car! Yes! We have one of those! So, I'll just- Yes!" Running out the door, Maria forced herself up and grunted in pain with each step towards the door. The next hour had become a blur of trying to get to the hospital quickly, checking her health, checking her progress, and generally trying to keep her husband from blacking out. She failed to understand how she was the one giving birth yet he was the one hyperventilating... Day turned to night, time ticking by, as they waited for their boy to be born. Eventually, the time came. And Béni was right there by her side, holding her hand, enduring every scream that was forced out of her. Push after push, each one more painful than the last, she did everything she could to see her beautiful baby boy, to change her marriage into a family. The moon hung high in the sky by the time it was all over. With one final effort, the pair was presented with a small boy, screaming his lungs out into the night. Quickly cleaned up and wrapped, Béni reached to hold his son for the first time. "Oh my..." His voice wavered, tears threatening to fall. This was it. They were finally a family. "Maria... Oh, Maria, he's beautiful! He-" Something was wrong the second he looked back at her. She was still. Quiet. Pale. Alarms fired up on the machines and the staff present went into a frenzy, rushing to her side, one of them having the sense to quickly escort him out of the room with the newborn.
He never expected that to be the last time he'd see her alive. A sleeping angel. A mother.
They'd taken the boy off him for a while, running tests, maybe even to stop him doing something crazy when the child needed him, but that only left him alone as he sat in silence. Hours seemed to pass before anyone had any news for him. His wife had been pronounced dead shortly after giving birth. She'd had a heart condition, something on her father's side, passed down, skipping a generation if they were lucky, and probably the same thing that killed him, but never knew about it. Nobody did. Had they, they would've advised she never had the child in the first place. But he knew her. She would've. She would've gone ahead with it, bared the boy, given birth, died all over, because she just wanted to be a mother to a child she made. A few hours ago, she'd been happy, smiling, loving. Now, she was dead. Gone within seconds of what should've been a wonderful memory. Dawn was still miles away by the time he returned home, son in hand, laying him down in his crib and returning to the darkness of the living room. The only strength he could find lead him to the drinks cabinet, only rarely used but stocked for any purpose, as he snatched the first bottle of bourbon he could find. It didn't last. None of the bottles did. Gin, bourbon, wine, it did nothing to fill the void spiraling inside of him. Six bottles in and he was only just able to control his body, a random knife he couldn't remember grabbing from the kitchen scratching crude letters into the throat of his gun. He'd head upstairs, polishing off another bottle, before stumbling into the boy's room. Resting on the bars of the crib, staring down at the newborn, he thought back to how this was the last of his wife. Thought about how he was all the family he had now. Thought about how, without this child, his wife would still be alive. And then he started to notice something. Something... Wrong. The shadows seemed to be moving, like waves, pushing around the infant's sleeping form. They kept going, picking up speed slowly, before lapping over his skin, washing over him, soaking him in the misty dark grey of night. They pushed in, soaking into his body, being absorbed, veins of black scattering along his skin. It was a nightmare, watching his son be consumed by the dark. He wanted to scream, wanted to protect his son, when he suddenly felt eyes on him. Looking up to his son's face, two demonically red eyes glowed, bloody cracks descending down his cheeks, razor sharp white teeth grinning, laughing, bellowing out a deep, insanely, twisted laughter, mocking him, mocking his dead wife, taunting him, the image burning into his very soul! He closed his eyes to look away, to get the horrific picture from his mind, shaking his head, barely able to breath, but found he couldn't resist staring back into the crib.
A crib in which a newborn lay, sleeping, unaware his father is even in the room.
But Béni knew better. His wife didn't die from some heart condition. Didn't die from a sleight of fate's hand. No, she died because of their son. Because this monster, this little devil, had stolen her life the second he was born! He wasn't human, he couldn't be, not after what he just saw! And how could he bring up a demon child? One that would go on killing, go on to break the hearts of others, just like he did today by killing his beloved Maria. He couldn't allow it. But, as he drew his pistol, aiming it down at the child's fragile skull, he found it impossible to pull the trigger. Impossible to put the creature down. Not because it was his son, not because it was human or he had a change of heart, but because it was part of Maria. He could see her, ever so slightly, in his face. And he could never do that, never harm his love, never find the will to do so when the memory of her face was so fresh in his mind. So he thought to himself: How do you kill a child without killing it? It all pieced together within minutes. He had a car. The world was full of monsters just like the boy. But he couldn't do it in Vale. If the body was found, if the child lived, if anyone saw him leave it, it'd all come back to haunt him and they'd never believe him. Plus, Vale wasn't entirely unpopulated like other kingdoms. But Vacuo... It was a harsh and unforgiving land, full of Grimm, hard to survive in, and far away enough so no one would ever ask where the boy was. He'd just say he was living with relatives as he's unable to cope being a single parent. No one could prove it. It was perfect.
So, just before dawn, the drunken fiend loaded his son into the car and sped off into the night. It took longer than he liked, much too long, but helped him sober up. But he eventually found himself deep in the heartless sunbaked lands of another kingdom, walking away from his car, child in hand. "You're going to pay for what you did, demon..." He mumbled bitterly to the boy as he went about his way. "Others won't see it, they're all blind, but I know the truth! You might trick me into caring for you, stop me from killing you, but I have no qualms about leaving you out here to die!" He'd come far enough. Kneeling down, he lay the baby on the ground beneath him, glaring down at it, thinking only of his lost love. "You don't deserve to live after what you did. My Maria is dead. She died because you ended her life! You're nothing but a sick little murderer and I'll have NOTHING to do with you!" He probably wasn't even aware he was shouting, startling the boy, forcing him wail in distress. But he didn't care. Standing up, practically snarling at him, he turned heel and began to leave. "Death is too good for a monster like you, but it's all I can do! For the sake of everyone around me! For my wife!" Disappearing into the distance, returning to his car, Béni drove home and hit the bottle harder than ever before. He lost his job after one too many drunken nights, blacking out and forgetting how most of his week even played out, hair turning white and house running into disrepair. He'd eventually break his habit, fighting his alcoholism after being forced to sell everything but his wife's jewelry to keep eating, and devote his life to a simple job, never allowing himself to grow close to others again. His Maria was all that was on his mind. And while he loved her, as days past, he found himself regretting now personally killing his son when he had the chance. His weakness faded, a pure unchecked malice replacing the space love should've been for his own blood, wishing he'd took the time to end the monster with his own bare hands.
But fortune wasn't on his side when he'd left the boy in the wildness that night. Moments after he left, a hunter, drawn by cries of a baby, discovered the newborn and abandoned his hunt to race home. He'd burst into his house, smiling, his wife first shocked than stunned at the sight before her. "Look! Look! I just- I-I- Just found him! Out in the wild! It's a sign, I know it is, it's a sign!" He rushed to his wife, embracing her with the child, as tears ran down both their faces. They'd been trying for months, trying so badly to have a child, but nothing happened. They just couldn't, both biologically unable to conceive, but oh so unwilling to give up. But now, with this child, they could be a family. The boy had given them a gift simply by being their to be found and, in turn, they'd gifted him with a family that loved him.
"I love him... I love him so much, I never want to let him go!"
"Amina... Let's call him Amina!"
"Don't you get it now? This, you returning here, is life's way of giving me a second chance! To finally put you down like I failed to do so all those years ago!" He grinned, beyond insanely happy... Though mostly just insane, his hate for the boy clearly leaving scars on his mind that no amount of talk or medicine could heal. But that wasn't what caught Grimm's attention. Something he'd said stuck in his mind. A little detail the old coot had so casually skimmed over, as if he was tired of retelling his story or as if he didn't care. Something that, with good reason, sent the pale boy into a hysterical fit of emotions. "ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE!?" Not exactly his best opening line yet sadly not his worse... "You- You tried to kill me, left me out in a DESERT kingdom to starve or be eaten by monsters, all over what you THINK you saw!? You were drunk! You said so yourself! You could've just imaged it all and my mother, your WIFE, died for a freak natural occurrence that I had no control over!" He could see the rage building behind the old man's eyes, his words clearly wiping away all the joy he was taking in making the other suffer. Grimm being Grimm, he couldn't help but poke the bear even further. "You tried to kill me because you wanted someone to blame! You wanted something to hurt because you were hurting! Don't you fucking DARE deny it, I know it's true! You got rid of me because you weren't man enough to take care of a child alone, didn't have the balls to put your own pain aside and protect what you should've loved! You're not fit to be called my father!" A smirk, dark and twisted, crossed his lips, his old cocky self surfacing for the first time in a while. "Your wife would be ashamed."
That's what pushed him over the edge. With an enraged roar, Béni launched himself over to Grimm, kicking him square in the chest and slamming him to the floor, swapping his gun out for its mace form and swiping down hard at the battered boy beneath him. Without the power to fight back, his son could do nothing but curl up, trying to block the blows but still being stuck over and over again, skin tearing in places, bleeding more, as he was beaten mercilessly by his furious father. His skull mask, which had survived its trip through hell with him, shattered into pieces as he was struck in the face, reduced to next to nothing as it fell to the floor. But even without his focus, without the one thing keeping him from turning completely into a monster, he still couldn't fight back. There was no dark power to rip apart his enemies, no blackened skin and glowing red eyes, no inhuman strength and resistance eating through his aura supply like no tomorrow. Right now, he was just a human being abused by his parent, being punished for mouthing off at him, for standing up for himself. This wasn't a fairytale anymore, there was no heroes to save him, no villains who'd meet their end, no super powers or happy ending. It was just one very bad father hurting someone he should've loved without restrictions. Instead, a violent crack across the jaw bone ending his beating, Béni laughed and kicked his son in the ribs over and over. "You think you're in control?! You think you're better than me, HUH!? You're nothing! NOTHING!" Another kick, this time laying Grimm out on the floor, pain ebbing through his body, tears running down his cheeks as he stifled his sobs. Somehow knowing he was supposed to be his parent made each kick, each slam of the mace, hurt even more. "You're nothing but a little freak, a little fucked up psychopath who wanted to hurt people! I should've killed you when I had the chance, before you could hurt anyone, but now I can make sure they get the justice they deserve!" Stomping on his bite wound, the cruel bastard smile as the younger male screamed in pain, tears flowing freely as he couldn't stop himself crying aloud anymore. Blood pooled beneath his shoulder, dizziness overcoming Grimm as his body reached its limits at long last. By the time it ended, he could barely feel a thing, his body unable to register anything but pure agony anymore. "Pathetic little shit. Look at you, crying like a child, all because someone's finally doing to you what you did to others! Doesn't feel good, does it?" The vicious pensioner stepped away, mace bloodied, with a huff of amusement. But his victim wasn't done. Not yet. No matter how much is hurt, he couldn't stop himself being a little terror in his own special way. "What... What's the matter, you old... Old fuck..?" He panted, forcing himself up, trembling, shaking, unable to truly stand anymore, kneeling on his own blood, black hair matted and blind eyes giving a half-awake glare at the man who resented him. "You... You got me... This far... Don't have that balls to kill me..?" He chuckled, still crying but unable to resist mocking him. What little strength he had surged through his body, giving him one last sociopathic hurrah. "COME ON! Shoot me, mother fucker! You wanted it! Don't be a little bitch and kill me! KILL! ME!"
There was silence, briefly, as he considered if the old man really was giving up on the idea of killing him. If he had been bluffing, instead wanting to just torture him, and couldn't back up his threats with actual death. But then there was a click, the sound of metals sliding against eachother, before he could hear the hammer of a gun being pulled back. Within seconds of being insulted, Béni had kept his word. With one fluid movement, spinning around, gun aimed, he pulled the trigger, intent on adding an extra hole or two to Grimm's skull. And Grimm, too weak to move, to resist, to even fight it, knelt there. Waiting. Expecting. Eyes rolling shut, embracing the death that was approaching. This is it. This is how it ends. Huh... Guess I never prepared for this but... At least it's over. I can't... Hurt anyone else. It felt like forever, waiting for the bullet to hit him, the entire world slowed to a crawl as it spun gently towards his brow. But, despite his lack of real choice, this was his decision. He wanted this. Wanted it to end. Only... Not everyone agreed.
Please don't do this! Don't let him kill you!
The voice from before, when he came to Vale, was clear as day now. It was speaking to him, trying to make him resist his fate. I didn't want you to die, I just wanted you to change! Confused, he answered as best as he could. Why should you care? You're nothing. You're some voice in my head. Maybe it was the imminent death or maybe he'd lost too much blood to think, but Grimm had been too dense to see the pieces of the puzzle before him. It was obvious, looking back on it, why he heard this voice to begin with. He just couldn't see it. So he was told. A mother always cares. His heart stung, aching as the words flushed through his brain. The clues began to fall in place, aligning, suddenly making something so obvious clear to him.
Love for the unborn.
Care. Love. Trust.
Follow. Need to. Freedom.
Always Benji.
"Married to her. She was my wife, pregnant with my son..."
"...Daddy always swore I had a gift..."
M-Mother..? How is that possible!? He felt warm. Loved even. This woman, lost to the world, had been speaking to him the entire time. Guiding him... But perhaps wrong to. I don't have time to explain, but I did have a gift. I just died before I could gain access to it... She sounded upset, lost even, which was a bizarre thought considering she was effectively a ghost. But I'm here to stop you doing this. Please, don't die here! I guided you here, made you follow Benji, made you feel what you did, because I wanted you to change! You weren't born bad, you're a good person, I've seen it! And I'm sorry, I'm sorry mummy wasn't there to protect you, but I'm here now! Benji isn't the man I fell in love with, he's... Changed. But I know you haven't, not deep down. Please, I just wanted you to have a better life! He could feel her pain, feel her tears as if they were his own, but what could he do about it? He had to die. He had no choice, he couldn't even resist if he wanted to. And how did she think this would play out? She appears, begs him to change, and all of his murders are forgiven?! It didn't work like that, as much as he wished it could. This was the only way. Death was the only way. I'm sorry... But I've no choice... I have to die. I'm sorry, mother... I love you. And so, he braced himself once more, ignoring the frantic pleas of his late mother.
No, don't do this!
The bullet drew closer.
I'm begging you, don't die!
Closer.
Fight it! Fight it, please, for me!
Closer...
DON'T MAKE ME LOSE MY BABY!
"Come on, sweetpea. Come on! That's it!" A young boy, taking his first steps, wobbles towards his father's outreached hands, a grin on the adult's face as he picks up his young son. "That's my boy! Look at you, walking like a pro! Bet you'll run faster than me when you're old enough." He chuckled as he carried the boy to the dining table of his home, sitting down and gripping a tiny spoon which rest inside a nutritional, if unappealing looking, bowl of mushed paste. Whistling, the spoon is guided in a snaking pattern to the child's mouth, popped in without a fuss, and pushed back into the bowl as the child attempts to comprehend the mechanics of swallowing without spitting food all over their own chin. The effort repeats for a while, but the trick never fails, the father pleased by the boy's co-operation during dinner time. "Pretty bland, huh? Don't worry, I promise you, things taste better when you get older. No more slush like this until you get to my age and lose all your teeth!" Curling his lips over his teeth, he mumbles nonsensical noises to his son, earning delighted squeals of amusement as he attempts to mimic his dad. But, eventually, the man grows somber, a smile still on his face despite it. "Son... One of these days, I want you to do something with your life. Me and your mum, we're... We're too old, too 'normal' to be special. We're just common people living normal lives, but you? You were made for something else! I knew it the second I laid eyes on you." Kissing his son's brow, he hugs the boy gently to his chest, hoping his child never forgets how loved he is.
"Daddy loves you, Amina. And your mummy does too. We always will..."
The bullet ricocheted off into a nearby wall, catching the old man's attention and shocking him in the process. His eyes go from the failed bullet of death to the person it was designed for, eyes wide, disbelieving what he was even seeing. Rising to his feet, left arm coated in black, tiny feathers layering fur, small spikes of bone jutting out of skin, razor sharp claws replacing his fingers, Grimm had deflected the round with minimal effort... Or, at least to Béni, it had been Grimm. About damn time I got control of you again! In his last moments, surrendering himself to the void, ignoring the strength of his own mother's pleas, Grimm had become an empty enough vessel for his other side to pull itself back from the abyss, tearing back into his brain in time to provide the much needed strength he needed to fight. The only problem, however, was that the boy had no intention to do so. No... No, not now! Don't do this, I don't want to live anymore! Eyes snapping open, cracks of blood red cascading down his cheeks as they burned brightly, he roared at his father, furious, revenge hungry. And after everything that happened, all the pain they'd endured, the other Grimm had no intention of letting his bloodlust go unanswered. Fuck that! You may want to die, but I'm not about to! So if you're that much of a coward, shut up and give me full control. I don't need you, I just need your body! Unaware of the inner turmoil going on inside his son's mind, Benjamin gritted his teeth, revolver shifting to mace, shifting into a battle stance. He'd called his son a monster, a murderous psychopath, but to know he was truly a monster... He'd expected evil but this level of it was madness. To see the boy with the eyes and arm of a Grimm, he knew the creature before him wasn't human. Had never been human. It was enough to push his fragile grip on reality over the edge, losing himself to the same paranoia that put his child in the deserts of Vacuo. "I knew it! I KNEW IT! I was right, you are a monster!" He cackled, lost in his own madness. "Now I'm going to make you pay! I'm going to purify this world of your wickness! For my wife! FOR MARIA!" The man in white shot forward, charging towards his enemy with a vengeful purpose, Grimm's body lurching forward to do the same. The two clashed, the power unholy arm of his glancing the silver weapon away, and the battle truly began. Trading blows, neither one managing to overwhelm the other, the two seemed equally matched. Grunting and huffing, eager to hurt the other, Grimm continued to fight with the other voice inside his head. I didn't want this! He was right, I'm a monster! I can't make up for what I did, but I can die! A moment of hesitation and he found a mace connect with his face, throwing him backwards and barely just being able to block a follow-up attack in the process. Snarled at, his darker version wasn't best pleased with his actions. Stop holding us back! Are you really that selfish to get us both killed!? And how is this guy any better, he's a nut job! Dying won't fix the past, so STOP BEING SO WEAK! Béni, swinging wildly to try beat his son into the floor, throw his attack too wide, leaving an opening for a violent kick to the ribs. Stumbling back, slashed across the face, three thin cuts oozing blood down his cheek, he pushed back. Clubbing down, swinging sharply, he jabbed with the face of his mace and pulled the trigger, propelling Grimm back into a wall, concrete scattering around him, gut burned and damaged. Muscle nearly on show beneath bleeding skin, it was clear to all three that he'd not be able to resist another blast like that. Not without his full powers. But, still resisting, that wasn't about to happen. Inside his mind, he battled with himself, fighting for control, unable to gain full control but persistent enough to hold back losing himself completely. The old man quickly swapped back to his revolver, reloading the gun with various Dust rounds as Grimm recovered from the previous strike. There was no time to charge forward, the gunslinger already having finished his task, so evasion was the only option. And the more angles he covered, the better.
Firing himself up the very wall he was smashed into, the demon boy dodged past explosions of fire and ice, nearly being struck by the sharp sting of lightning as it exploded before him, counting the bullets. Béni seemed to know exactly what he was planning, but couldn't reload as quickly as it came. When the sixth round was spent, Grimm stalled dead on the wall, spinning on his heels with his momentum, and burst from the wall towards his victim, the stone cracking underheel as black feathers trailed behind his inhuman limb. Landing with a violent downward smash, staggering the pensioner, he began a rapid flurry of blows. Distracting with his claw, he signposted his attacks on purpose, striking with his pale fist or a snap kick the second it was blocked. The mortal managed to resist, occasionally striking back, smashing the back of Grimm's knee and attempting to crack open his skull in sudden one-two swing, but it was never enough. Deflecting the fatal blow, the devil child struck his father in the gut with a powerful punch before booting him across the courtyard. Béni, testament to his age, managed to roll back onto his feet. However, Grimm easily closed the gap, forcing him to toss any handful of bullets from his pouch he could grab. Slamming into various Dust rounds forced his opponent back, not at harshly as it would've had he been shot, but it was enough to give him chance to fight back. One chance swing came down on the boy's hand, a sharp snap as the younger male's fingers were struck, the digits breaking, but he didn't react, backhanding his father and returning to fray without a care beyond desiring blood split. A volley of claw based stabs resulted in various cuts across the once unharmed elderly body, the human slowing as fatigue kicked in. Maybe it was his age, maybe it was just the length of the battle or the supernatural power he faced, but Béni was beginning to slip. For every two attacks he blocked, he was struck by one. For every cut he avoided, he'd gain three more. Slowly but surely, the old man was failing to defeat the monster he'd came so close to killing. Forced backed by a hard shoulder bash, Béni spun his mace to deflect several Nevermore feathers flung towards him, but couldn't stop the ungodly swipe he received, failing to noticed the feathers were nothing more than a distraction tactic. Flung back, he only just managed to regain his footing... And realized his weapon hadn't followed him on his journey, left back where he stood. Now he's MINE! Grimm took the advantage, losing his internal battle, hunching over and roaring as he proceeded to storm towards his father, razor sharp claws scraping across the pavement as he did. No! No, I don't want this! I don't want you to do this! His body didn't listen, clearing the distance easily, arm cocked and ready to impale, his father unable to resist, eyes clenched, raising his arms in a feeble attempt to save himself. I'm not a monster like you! NOT ANYMORE! They were inches apart, the demon lunging for his target, an inhuman growl torn from his throat as he bolting in for the kill.
The two connected.
The world was silent.
No Grimm.
No terrorists.
No panicked survivors.
The world didn't exist to them.
Not in this moment.
Béni's eyes shot open, gasping as he did. Grimm's human arm was wrapped around his neck, the two like statues as they stood, the entire courtyard silent beyond all norm. Not even a single leaf rustled in the wind. He trembled, the devilish red of his eyes faded back to the milky white of his own eyes, tear streaming down his cheeks. "I'm sorry..." Words, barely a whisper, left his lips. It was all he could manage, all that came, as he hugged his father tighter. The older man did nothing, frozen in place, unable to even attempt to return the gesture. He took in every detail; the smell of his cologne, the feel of his shirt's fabric, the short length of his hair... Grimm had won the fight with himself. Had won control of his body. Had things he needed to say with a clear mind, fearing he'd lose himself once again someday. He knew his father wouldn't love him, knew there was no chance of a happy ending, no fairytale reunion or crappy movie adaption showing his entire family well and happy and living in peace, but this was enough. A chance to apologize. A chance for closure. "I'm sorry... For everything. I didn't want to be like this, I didn't ASK for this, I just-" He sniffled, the tears coming harder, soaking into his father's shirt, as he embraced grew more desperate. "I wasn't always evil! I swear, I wasn't! A-A-And I'm sorry for what happened to mum, I'm sorry! But I didn't do that, it wasn't my fault, and if I could go back and die, go back and never be born, to let you keep her, I would! I'd do it all, prevent all of this, if it meant you could both live better lives!" Sharp nails dug into Béni shoulder, the monster finally human once again, his soul bleeding from the years of wounds it had left festering. His heart ached, bruised from the scars it carried, from the guilty it was burdened by. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I just wanted to be loved, to make you proud, to be NORMAL! I... I-I just..." His sobs became erratic, chest heaving for breath, as he broke down before his true father. His hold never weakened, unwilling to allow himself to forget this moment. Making sure he never forgot the man who gave him life. Who loved him, even briefly, at one point in his existence. The man who'd indirectly saved him from himself. A man who, despite his actions, was still his father. And, in a way, he knew he was right to wish him dead. He was a monster. A killer. A Grimm born human. Maybe if he hadn't suffered, been tortured all those years ago, had a better life, he'd be a normal boy. Maybe even a hero. But who could day for sure? There was no promise he wouldn't end up the same. And that's why he needed this, right now.
He needed to remember the day he met and left his true father forever.
To remember the day he saw clear, just once, beyond the monster inside of him.
To remember the day he lived, if only for a time, instead of existing.
The day he accepted that dying wasn't the way. That his sins could only be absolved while living.
Pulling himself together, cries fading, he whispered a praise and a thank you for everything, before indulging in the hug once more.
"Goodbye... Dad."
And as a blinding light consumed Beacon, an echo of a pain resonating within it, the two men stood together. The father held by his son. The son who'd accepted he had no right to a normal life, no hope of forgiveness or love. A man, turned monster and back again, who wished nothing more than to undo all the harm he'd done to so many innocent people he'd just stumbled across. Even the Grimm seemed still, silent, peaceful, for once in their chaotic lives.
And as the light washed over them, no one could see the tears that ran down the boy's face. No one could see the smile spread on his lips for feeling the warmth of his true father in his hold. No one could see the father's eyes roll shut, a single sigh on his lips. No one could see Grimm maybe, just maybe, close the door on one part of his past. But, most of all...
No one could see the black tar-like arm that had pierced the old man's gut, minutes ago, withdrawing, contrasting the world as all faded white...
Took longer than I liked but 1) I've had a headache the entire time I was writing all of these and it's only just ended, 2) I got stuck on the fight scene cos I can never describe how I picture them in my head..., and 3) I didn't feel up to writing much yesterday. But, hey, 8000+ words! Whoo! So happy to have this written up! Sorry if it didn't live up to expectations, I really wish I could draw or animate this, it'd be so much easier for me then. But yeah, as I said, canon friendly and set in Season 3. Pretty proud of it all myself. Especially fond of the ending. No, I won't say who did it. Did Grimm fail to stop his other self in time? Was his other self only pretending to be a sobbing Grimm? Did Grimm himself kill his father? If I ever make a sequel, which I hope to someday but it'd be even bigger with more characters and... Urgh... So much work for one person to write... But I might reveal how it ended then. I do have plans for a future one but it's unlikely considering it took me years to write this up!
Anyway, stay tuned for the epilogue, which'll take less time to write, I promise, and I hope you all enjoyed the story while it lasted. Also, be honest, who didn't see the voice in his head being his mother?
But yeah, conclusion coming soon!