As soon as I reached the doorstep, I knew I couldn't truly bring myself to knock. Even after all these years of just walking in like I lived there a heavy ball hung in my stomach like I had swallowed a large nugget of iron and a feeling of trespass hung in the corner of my mind, a nagging reminder of the Peace family's frail structure. After I left, I can only imagine what was uncovered about me and Warren. Whether it was his hatred that ran deeper than his just father or my "rough" lifestyle that would be more than frowned at.

Mrs. Harriet Peace always treated Warren with a strange attitude, almost like indifference as a child, always keeping him at arms length and watching any of his friends with weary eyes, the fear of history repeating itself clawing with her husband's vengeance at her nerves. He was, after all, the spitting image of a terrifying man who even somewhat defied the average villainy of this society. But as I became older as well, she began to look at me like a household appliance preferably a toaster, I was always there without any real emotional attachment to her.

Whenever I had to sit and talk with her it reminded me of old Southern women, always acting polite and gentile around there neighbors, but secretly dropping social bombs about them to others. In her case it was completely unknown to me who she was actually friends with considering she came off as a recluse or a nutter to most of the civilian and super population, but there had to have been someone she didn't push away.

Shaking slightly, my hand was held a few inches away from the handle and I decided on just entering despite her possible enraged face I kept picturing in my mind. So I bit my lip hard and checked the doorknob, finding my guess correct as the knob clicked and the hinges creaked.

'Unlocked just as usual', I couldn't help but think. The only thing slightly understandable she did was leave the front door unlocked and the back latched securely. This was a neighborhood filled with trained professionals that always took things head on.

Even if someone did want to commit something obscene not only would they have their ass kicked nine ways to Sunday, but if they did get away this house was custom made with cameras hidden around the front and back doors. It was something uncommon for a super hero household to need security such as this considering most are completely unaware of real situations, but Harriet Peace had a right to be paranoid, what with the family history and the fear that some villain would take interest in the budding son of the infamous Barron Battle.

Entering as quietly as possible, my heart began to race wildly within my chest as the familiar place and aromas attacked my olfactory sense and raided my mind, raking up memories. As soon as I closed the door behind me, her familiar voice called out causing the hair on my neck to stand on end.

" I knew you'd come eventually. No one else believed me."

Turning my head to my right, I followed her voice into the unusually cold living room that I always remembered as warm and inviting. It now just seemed like an empty shell completely blank and void of any happiness, as if it were an Egyptian tomb dressed and filled with the deceased's valuables in life. I could feel a life half spent wanting and crying scattered around me in the form of cracked photos and stale aromas.

Clearing my throat I stared directly through the darkness at the old dusty love seat where the figure of Harriet Peace sat in her robe, arms and legs crossed tightly.

My voice found a foot-hole and trudge through the tar like air, so thick with heavily mixed emotions. "Where is he? You have to know something."

"I know nothing.", she replied quickly.

"You lie. Tell me what you know."

Her face twitched in the darkness and I knew she was holding out. She replied with a low growl-like voice, "Why would I lie about my own son's whereabouts?"

"You never seemed to care before-"

"How dare you speak to me like that." She had cut me off and was standing now, her figure appearing ominous in the dim glow of the security light that hung outside and she gave off the vibe of a panther about to pounce.

"What is this ploy? Acting like you've always used your maternal instincts. You were never sure if you were supposed to protect or cage your son. Half of his life you just acted like he wasn't even there. I'm sorry, I just can't respect someone who does that."

Again, I could tell I hit another nerve as she moved uncomfortably in her spot ten or so feet away from me. In a locked unwavering glare, I felt her eyes melt through the silence and darkness producing something nasty from the bowls of her emotional soul and spitting it out at me as if she could make me disappear.

Just feeling her there, standing so composed, but trying to kill me with her looks made me realize she'd either never help or she feels incompetent for having less information than me. I couldn't help spitting out, "On the last day that you will ever live, you will have to eat all of your vile words and swallow them whole, each painful accusation or mistreatment will slice your throat like a shard of glass."

I really thought that'd be the end of our verbal battle, but as I turned around to leave that dreary setting her voice rang out one last time cracked with sadness and tears causing me to face her again.

" No matter what you believe, he's not doing it for the glory or for freedom from his-," she cracked and sniffled before speaking again, " From his father's reputation."

My mouth hung open and I went to reply, but was cut off by her distressed voice speaking through tears.

"NO! You're going to listen good. I've always known where he was when he disappeared after fighting with me. I've always known he went to you and for once I'd like to tell you what the hell I really think," she took two steps toward me with clenched fists " I understand everyone thinks I've always been cruel to him, but damn it you better open your eyes and see the trap you set for my son."

Her body was rigid as she took another step toward me, " He's out there not only looking for you and your brother in hopes of regaining whatever kind of sick affection you gave him, but he's trying to satisfy you. HE'S ALWAYS TRIED TO SATISFY YOU! Stealing, lying, and bleeding for your attention. "

Taking two last steps toward me she screamed out with all of her lung and throat power producing a banshee like shriek , " WILL YOU EVER BE SATISFIED?"

Automatically my hand collided with the left side of her face with a loud flesh on flesh noise and she went limp where she stood, staring into the carpet with void eyes. Now I didn't know at all how to deal with her. Anything could send this woman teetering off the edge so I stuck to the basics, "CALM THE FUCK DOWN. "

I couldn't deal with the melodramatic tears she was producing, so I did the one thing I'm good at, leaving. My legs carried me swiftly out the door and to my car. When I was once again driving down the road I became a victim to my own thoughts and I couldn't help but to wonder if I was the one who was cruel...

If maybe she was right.