Chapter 30

Unforgiveable

Hi guys! So I'm back! It's my last day of summer right now and I wanted to put this up before I went back to school tomorrow. School also means updates might be a bit more scarce but I'll try my hardest to get them out to as quickly as I can. Now I'd like to thank everyone for reading and reviewing and for all the favourites and alerts. You guys are all so amazing. So anyway, on with the story.

Songs-

Turning Tables-Adele

Brave New World-Hedley

Why am I doing this?

That was all he could think about as he walked down the bleach white hallway.

For closure. That's why you're doing this.

He squeezed Alec's hand tighter, his heart racing in his chest.

I can't do this.

"You can do this baby. I know you can."

Magnus looked down at Alec, locking their eyes. Alec returned the squeeze to his hand trying to give him some more reassurance. Magnus welcomed the reassurance, needing as much as he could get at that moment. He never thought he'd be here, not even in his wildest dreams. He'd always thought that part of his life was over, that he'd never have to see that face again. But here he was, about to confront the man who'd tried to take his life away.

After Alec had spoken to him that night, Magnus had thought about it. He'd thought about it a lot. At that point, Magnus knew his father had only about a week and a half to live, which didn't give him much time to make his decision. He had taken five days to make up his mind. He had spent every waking and sleeping moment of those five days thinking about what he should do. The majority of him didn't want to go see his father, wanting instead for the man to just rot where he was. But a small part of him, a part that was long since buried, knew that the right thing to do was to go see his father. Alec had said it right, he needed closure, and if he didn't say things now, he'd never be able to say them.

That was why he was here. He wasn't here because his father wanted him to be, instead to say the things he'd never gotten the chance to. He was here to speak for himself and for his mother, to give voice to everything that been beaten silent over those many years.

Each step he took was laboured, an anchor on his soul trying to hold him back from moving forward. But he fought it, pushing through it all so he could move forward. The hospital walls seemed to suck the happiness from his being. It was so dark, despite the light, each second spent in that hallway making it harder for Magnus to continue on. He fought for breath, the medicated air grabbing greedily at the oxygen in his lungs. He always hated hospitals. They were like prisons for the ill instead of the criminal. So how fitting his father be in one even when he was sick. He was to be enchained for his crimes right until the moment he died, not even a sickness breaking him out of prison.

Magnus and Alec stopped at the desk. A petite woman with pin straight brown hair and dull green eyes that were framed by black wire frames sat on the other side, her nose deep in paperwork. She was pretty plain and Magnus wondered if this was the woman who'd called him nearly a month before. She didn't even notice them as they came up.

"Excuse me," said Alec, trying to catch the woman's attention.

She looked up in bewilderment. "Oh, I'm sorry. How can I help you?" She pushed her glasses up further on her nose, looking the two boys over. Her eyes stayed longer on Magnus than on Alec, and Magnus knew she was just taking in a site he knew she didn't see every day. Magnus also knew, just in hearing that voice that this was the woman who'd called him.

"We're looking for James Bane." Again Alec spoke and Magnus thanked him silently for that. Magnus wasn't sure he could quite form any words at that moment. He was just trying to think about what he'd say to his father. He knew he needed to be strong. He didn't want to see his father's face and break. He couldn't do that. His father had broken him down enough that Magnus wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of breaking him down again. He had to be strong, for himself and his mother. Magnus had always wished that he was bigger, older, and stronger so that he could stand up against his father. And now he was. Now he had that chance to stand up to his father.

"And you two are?"

"I'm Alec. This is Magnus. His son."

Her eyes lit up as she took in that information. "Mr. Bane, you came."

"Yes." That was all he said.

"He's been waiting for you. I think it's the only thing that's kept him hanging on this long."

"If you could please tell us his room," said Alec.

"Yes. Yes." She took a quick look at her computer, typing in a few things before she looked back at them. "Room 124."

"Thank you." Magnus nodded slightly at her before starting to walk in the direction of his father's room. He held onto Alec's hand like a lifeline, Alec's presence the only thing holding him up. He continued to walk down the hallway, the faces around him passing in a blur. Everything seemed to drop away from him, drowning in the white of the hallway. He couldn't see anything but the numbers on the doors, each one passing by slowly.

120.

My life was ruined because of you two.

121.

I should have killed you. Both of you.

122.

I'll do you a favour by saving you from watching her die.

123.

Why?

124.

Because.

Magnus' heart stopped in his chest, the breath leaving his lungs as his feet stopped a few feet from his father's door. He felt the whole world crash over him, the white of his surroundings mixing with the dark hole in his being. He fought to stay standing as the pain overtook him, each physical and emotional scar reopening, bleeding as they had once before. He could feel the pain on his skin from his toes to his head, in his heart from the frozen centre to the broken walls, and in his soul, right to the very core.

"Can I help you boys?"

Magnus looked over at the police man that had been positioned outside his father's door. He hadn't noticed the man before, his senses only now registering him. He was tall, lengthy, and young, probably straight out of the academy which would explain why he'd been given such a simple job. He had deep green eyes and short blond hair, cropped short to his head. He seemed nice enough, but Magnus didn't care to pay him much mind. All he could think about was the man on the other side of that door.

"Yes, we'd like to see Mr. Bane." Again Alec spoke for him.

"I've been instructed that Mr. Bane is to have no visitors."

"I think you can make an exception. This is his son."

The police man's eyes shot to Magnus', taking him in. "Magnus?"

Magnus nodded.

"He's been asking for you for weeks. You're all he seems to talk about."

"So do you think you can let us in?" Alec asked.

The police man looked back to Alec. "I can let Magnus in, but I can't let you both in."

"That's okay. Thank you." The police man nodded as Alec turned to look at Magnus. Magnus couldn't meet his eyes, too afraid to do much at that moment.

"Alec, I can't do this." Magnus moved to run away but there Alec stood in his way, stopping him from going any further. Alec's hands went to his chest, holding him softly in place.

"Yes you can. You've made it this far. Don't turn back now."

But he wanted to turn back. He wanted to run. He couldn't face him. He knew he couldn't, not without Alec. Alec was his support, and Magnus knew if he fell Alec would pick him back up. But if he went in there without Alec, he was bound to fall and he'd have no way to get back up. He'd crumble beneath his father's gaze, give into the memories and self destruct. He just knew it.

"I can't Alec. I shouldn't have come."

"Magnus, look at me." And Magnus did. He looked at Alec and in those beautiful baby blues he found himself drowning. He was drowning in love and that love embraced him and reassured him, telling him it was all going to be okay. "You know you can do this. I know you can."

"But what if I can't? What if I fail?"

"You won't."

"You don't know that."

"You won't," Alec repeated. His hands slid down Magnus' arms, taking his hands with his. "I'll be right outside if you need me. I'm not going anywhere. Now go." Alec's eyes urged him onward and Magnus finally felt like he could do it. He'd known all along that he could, he just hadn't been able to see it.

"Okay." Magnus took a deep breath. "I can do this."

Alec smiled. "Yes, you can."

"Thank you."

Alec just nodded, letting Magnus' hands go so he could go see his father.

Magnus took one last look at Alec, gathering all his courage as he placed a hand on the doorknob, turning it. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him as his eyes went straight to the dying man on the bed in front of him.

His heart stopped beating. Every wall, every reserve, everything he'd ever put up or used to protect himself fell away in shambles around him, letting the enemy in to pillage and destroy as it pleased. The enemy was his father and he was prying his fingers into the scars he'd made, pulling them apart at the seams so that they could bleed and Magnus was at their mercy. Each scar held a memory, and each memory slowly came back, pouring over him in a hungry frenzy. Magnus tried to fight them, tried to fight all that came back to him.

He hit him. And again. This time harder. They came, one after the other, blood running down his tan skin.

No. He forced the pain away, trying so hard to drown it out.

'You're pathetic.' The belt screamed through the air, licking his skin. He forced himself not to scream out, his teeth digging into his lip. Tears trickled down his cheeks onto the bloodied bed sheets. 'Don't cry. Real men don't cry.' The belt came again, this time pushing the scream from his bloodied lips. It echoed through the room, coming back to him louder than it had left as the belt made contact with his skin again. 'Scream again and I'll hit harder.'

He fought it. He fought the pain, the tears, everything, pushing it away. He tried to drown it all out, using his bloodied scarred hands to beat at the demons inside of him. And I'll hit harder. With each memory Magnus fought harder, struggling against the pain and the words of his father. He wasn't going to let his father beat him down, not this time. His father's hands had beaten him as a child but Magnus wasn't going to let the memory continue to do the same. His father's hands would have no strength anymore, his words no say. Magnus wasn't going to let it control him anymore. He was done.

To love is to destroy.

No, Dad. No. It's so beautiful. You were wrong. To love is to create. To not love, is to destroy.

He finally managed to focus his thoughts on the man in front of him. He was nothing like the man Magnus remembered. His hair had begun to recede and turn a light shade of grey, his old brown locks only streaking here and there. His face was sunken, lines pulling at each curve of his features, making him look like he was already dead. He was pale, almost white, no colour remaining in his once tanned skin. His eyes... those eyes. They were so unlike Magnus remembered. They were dull, dead in their sockets. The same yellow green that painted Magnus' eyes was now a pale watered down version, no strength or life lingering there. Where Magnus had remembered darkness and strength and evil in his father's face, he now saw a desperate man on his death bed with nothing to hold on to but the possibility of one more breath.

"Hi Father."

His father's eyes swiveled from their place on the ceiling to meet Magnus' own. Despite the lack of what had once been, Magnus still felt the evil behind those eyes that had always frightened him to his very core. Magnus was rooted to the spot, those eyes looking right into his very soul, just as they had once done so many years ago. But nothing came back to him, not the pain or the memories. He'd already forced all that down. Now it was the anger; the anger at seeing that face again and remembering all that those hands had done to him and his mother. Magnus' own hands clenched into fists, his black painted nails digging into his skin.

"Magnus... my son."

Magnus' fingernails dug deeper as those words hit him. My son. His father had never called him that. He had despised the very fact that Magnus was his son. Magnus almost thought that maybe his father had changed, but that thought only lingered for a second when he remember this was his father he was talking about. The only thing that had changed was there wasn't a liquor bottle in his bloodied hands.

"You look just like your mother." His words were shaky, weak. Magnus could see the life leaving him, draining as each second passed. Magnus found happiness in the sight, knowing that the man was getting almost exactly what he deserved. Magnus would prefer it if he could feel all the pain instead of being in some numb medicated state, but still, he was suffering and Magnus wanted just that.

"Don't you dare mention my mother."

A small grin crossed his father's face, a grin that sent a shiver running down Magnus' spine. He'd seen that face so many times before. It was the face that haunted his dreams, that started each memory. It was the face of evil, the face of the man who had been Magnus' personal Devil.

"Why not? It's a pity she couldn't be here, to see you right now. So grownup..." He paused, coughing, a spasm overtaking his body in the process. When it stopped, he fell back against the pillows but his dull eyes were still focused on Magnus', unwavering. A cold chill crept over Magnus. He had forgotten just what those eyes could do to him, whether they were the strong dark eyes of the man he knew before, or the broken diluted eyes that he saw before him. "And so like I feared you'd become. I see I didn't beat it out of you."

Magnus ground his teeth together, trying to stop himself from either falling apart or losing it on his father. He had to keep it together. He had to. "No, you failed on that one father. I'm everything you didn't want me to be and nothing that you tried to make me."

His father coughed again, his skin pulling tight across his face to show the sharp angular bones of his features. His head fell back, his eyes leaving Magnus' for a few seconds. Magnus felt relief wash over him at the feeling of those eyes looking elsewhere. He was no longer frozen to the spot, no longer cold from that inhuman chill his father's eyes created. "So you fell in love didn't you? With a boy..." The last three words hissed from his lips, full of disgust.

"I did father." Magnus grinned in satisfaction knowing that he had beaten his father. He had pushed past everything his father had tried to beat into him, beating it back so that he was nothing like the son his father had tried to mould into creation with leather, skin, and glass. "So how does it feel to be laying there knowing you failed?"

"I didn't fail."

Those words caught Magnus by surprise, pushing the grin from his face.

"A part of you Magnus, as much as you will always try to deny it, will be just like me. Like father, like son. You'll never forget me, even when I'm dead." Another fit of coughs overtook him, his chest heaving under the blankets. "I'll always haunt you and those scars may fade... but they will never go away." That grin painted his face like nothing Magnus could paint himself. That grin was as much a part of his father as his skin or his brain or the heart he pretended to have.

Magnus fought the urge to punch that grin from his face, but he wouldn't do that. He wasn't like his father. Violence would never be the answer. Magnus had come to learn that words could hold so much more power than physical contact.

"You may be right father, but they will always be nothing but a scar, and you will be nothing but a memory. You tried to teach me that love was bad and destructive. But do you know what I've learned father, that your fists could never teach me? I've learned that love is unstoppable and it beats anything you ever did to me."

His father laughed, his laughter hard and evil, filling the room with its cold embrace. "'Love is unstoppable'? You sound just like your fucking mother."

"I am her son."

His father's laughter died off, his eyes sending lasers in Magnus' direction. Another fit of coughing over took him and what colour was in his face drained away completely. The coughs died down, mixing with the echo of his father's laughter. His father leaned back, his eyes closing briefly as he took in a forceful breath. "I'm dying." The words fell softly from his lips, barely audible to Magnus' ears.

"Good. It's exactly what you deserve."

"I don't want to die yet." His eyes still hadn't returned to Magnus, instead looking up at the ceiling. His father almost looked vulnerable, emotion finally showing on his face. But Magnus understood it all. His father never showed empathy or emotion for anyone but himself. The only person that mattered to his father was himself and everyone else could die for all he cared.

"Neither did mom when you killed her."

"It was her time."

"Just as it is yours now." Each of Magnus' words was laced with anger, the venom seeping past his lips. He fought to control it, to bottle it up and prevent himself from losing it. But he wanted to lose it. He wanted to take one of those needles in his father's arms and stab him in the heart with it. He wanted to see the man die.

His father finally looked back at Magnus and he could see the defeat in his eyes. His father had accepted his death, even if he didn't want it. Magnus could see the struggle going on within his father and the pain he was suffering. Magnus smiled to himself, taking in the feeling this brought him. His father was suffering, just as he deserved.

"Maybe I'll get to see your mother."

"That's unlikely."

His father smiled softly to himself. "Then I'll see you."

Magnus flinched at that. His father was going to Hell, if there even was one. Magnus was willing to believe there was just so he could know his father was headed for its very heart. But Magnus wasn't going to go there. No. He was going to see his mother one day, if there was a Heaven. He would believe in that, just to see her. And he would pray that he went to Heaven, that he was accepted past the gates instead of turned away and thrown down as he knew his father would be.

"No, you won't."

"We'll see. One day." He coughed again. "I hope you didn't come here searching for an apology."

"No."

"Then what are you here for?"

"To see you suffering. To see you getting exactly what you deserved. It's a shame that you're not in more pain."

"I'm in pain."

"Not enough." It would never be enough. It could never fully amount to everything Magnus had suffered. His father would never understand, would never grasp the extent of his actions. The man was crazy, void of emotions, and completely caught up in his life and selfish needs. He never thought about others and that was why he had killed his wife and almost destroyed Magnus. He wasn't human and that was all there was to it.

Seconds passed between them, the air particles between them charged with the tension that passed through the room. The seconds slowly slipped into minutes, the realization of the moment finally hitting Magnus. He was here. He was talking to his father and he was standing strong. He hadn't fallen or given in to the pain and memories, but had faced his father and seen exactly what he'd hoped to see. He'd seen the man who had torn him apart inch by inch, laying there unable to care for himself, pain ripping through his blood stained body. He'd seen his father suffering, the pain that he'd inflicted for so many years coming back to haunt him.

"It really is good to see you son."

"Oh please, don't give me that bullshit. You know as well as I do that you don't care that I'm here. And do not call me son. You may be my father and I may be your son by blood, but you will never be my dad, you will never be family, and you will never mean anything to me. You know I didn't come here because some receptionist called me. And hell, I wasn't going to come at all originally. But I did. I came here to show you that you didn't win. You may have taken my mother's life, but you didn't take mine. And now your own leaves you, and I couldn't see any better justice; seeing you here, suffering. I'd never wish this upon anyone, but you, you deserve it. You deserve all of it and I hope it fucking hurts. I hope that every second of your days are spent in agony and I hope that when you die, the last thing you think of is me. I hope you think about how you failed, and that you may have taken my mother and my childhood and everything I loved, but you didn't take away me. I beat you father, and I hope that hurts more than anything your hands or belt ever did to me." Magnus hoped it hurt a million times more. He hoped that his father died in pain, alone, with nothing but his memories to keep him company in the darkness.

"I doubt it. Now why don't you just run along now Magnus? I think we've wasted enough of each other's time already, don't you think? Why don't you let me die in peace son?" He closed his eyes, those dull green-yellow orbs disappearing behind a thin sheet of skin. And with that, his father fell asleep, his chest rising up and down in a slow rhythmic beat. All Magnus could hear was the resonant beeping of the hospital machines, playing in the background of his racing heart.

He couldn't tear his eyes from his father, from the site of the man who'd haunted his life. He looked unlike anything Magnus had ever seen him as. He looked weak, vulnerable, and for once in Magnus' life he wasn't afraid of him. He wasn't afraid of his words, his fists, nothing. He was simply numb. Just minutes before he had felt anger and elation and a million other things, while now he didn't feel anything. It was like when his father shut his eyes, so too did the emotions in his heart shut off. Now he was just quiet to it all. His heart was the only thing Magnus could hear, and even that was a silent thump inside of him. He just kept thinking of his father, of everything that had happened, and how, within minutes, hours, or a few days, his father was going to be dead. Those hands would no longer be able to touch him, those lips would no longer be able to feed his fears, and those eyes would no longer be able to haunt Magnus' dreams. He was free.

He was free.

Magnus turned toward the door, opening it. He took one last look at his father before stepping outside, turning his back on the man that had stolen his childhood, killed his mother and walked out on him. Now it was his turn to walk out the door forever. He closed the door behind him, seeing Alec standing on the other side of the hallway, his face looking anxious. Magnus just nodded at him and his face relaxed when he realized everything was okay. Magnus walked over to him, slipping his hand in Alec's. Neither of them said anything as they started down the hallway, Magnus finally walking away forever from that part of his life. They continued to walk, neither saying a thing as nurses pushed past them, heading in the direction Magnus and Alec had come. Their words were a blur in Magnus' ears but he understood. He understood the moment his father closed his eyes.

He was dead.

He was finally dead.

The physical, living version, of Magnus' father died in room 124 from liver cancer at 4:07 PM, just as the demon version that had haunted Magnus since he was 12 years old, returned to the hell where it belonged.

And so, Magnus was free.

For the first time his life he felt truly and utterly at peace; free from pain, from his past, from everything. His father was gone, forever, and Magnus couldn't ask for anything else.

The anchors slipped away, the darkness giving way to light as he left the hospital, Alec's hand in his. He was now free.

He was free to love.

He was free to live.

And he was free to be himself.

So there you go, Magnus has finally confronted his demons. I hope you all liked it. Let me know what you think and thank you all so much for reading. Until next time.

Be the change,
Amber