Disclaimer: All characters belong to Jim Butcher, I'm not making any money off of this…you know the drill.
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December, 1977
Hunt or be hunted. Kill or be killed. Reproduce. Die. Repeat.
This is the law of the jungle, a never-ending cycle that is wired into every animal's subconscious from birth. A necessary rhythm. A strict code. An immutable truth.
Thomas did not live in the jungle, at least not of the literal sort. He lived in Chicago, and he knew better than anyone else just how unavoidable death was. In fact, he had had several murder attempts on his own life. He knew that he would die sooner or later; he just hadn't been prepared for it to happen to someone else.
He gripped the railing on the hospital bed like it was the only thing keeping him upright, and willed himself not to cry. He was alone now, but he wanted to appear strong for Harry's sake, if no one else's. Things must have been hard on the kid as it was, seeing as he was now an orphan.
Malcolm wasn't supposed to die. Sure, Thomas knew his foster father was getting on in years and wasn't in his best health, but he couldn't leave them now when things were looking up for their little family. Christmas was in less than a week, and Thomas had planned on getting Malcolm something special. A black silk magician's top hat that was hellishly expensive, but worth it for the look on his foster father's face when he opened the package. He would never get to see that face now, only the stillness of death.
Why him? Thomas asked himself, enraged and in pain, why him and not my real father? Malcolm had been an infinitely better parent than Lord Raith could ever be. Not to mention he never tried to kill his own son. Malcolm Dresden was a good man who never deserved death. At least he had died relatively painlessly, of a brain aneurism in his sleep. He had gone to bed the night before complaining of a headache, and had never woken up.
Thomas should have known something was wrong as soon as Malcolm started having headaches, and rushed him to the hospital. But he hadn't given it a second though, and now there was nothing he could do about it.
Could have. Should have. Would have.
But didn't.
Thomas knew he would get nowhere thinking about what might have been, but he couldn't help it. He was still just a kid, only two months away from his seventeenth birthday. And now there was only one person left in the world who really cared for him.
He left Malcolm's bedside and trudged back to the waiting room where his little brother sat. Unlike the other six-year-olds, he didn't make use of the various toys they had for him to play with. He just sat, patiently, waiting for his big brother to return. Harry grinned widely as soon as he saw Thomas, and ran up to him yelling, "Guess what toys they've got here!"
"I don't know," Thomas answered, his voice seeming dried and rusty beneath his false smile, "what toys do they have here?"
"Rock 'em sock 'em robots! Wanna play?"
As he saw Harry's carefree, happy smile, Thomas realized he couldn't say no. The gravity of his father's death hadn't yet reached the little boy, and he was just happy that Thomas was there to play a game with him. Thomas wished he could be like that. Completely surrounded by his own reality in which nothing ever went wrong. Ignorance is bliss.
But he knew that even if it were possible to regain that childlike innocence, it would probably cost him his life. Inexperience was not a trait you wanted if you were going to survive on lonesome city streets. That was why it was his job now to protect his brother, by any means necessary. Even if that meant playing rock 'em sock 'em robots once in a while.
"Sure. I'll play."
Besides, maybe senseless plastic robot violence would take an edge off his grief. Thomas knew that his brother's smile alone would cheer him up some. Every dark cloud has a silver lining, and as he let Harry's red robot win for the third time in a row, Thomas thought he had found it.
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Author's Note: Well, I hope you weren't killed by all the angst. I tried to make this chapter more bittersweet, so as usual, tell me how I did. Next chapter with probably have to do with Harry learning about his wizard powers. Probably. Maybe. Something along those lines. Yeah…
Author's Note II: And by the way, thanks for the reviews! I'm somewhat of a review whore. They make me feel good inside. So, keep reviewing.