Request by the girl who envies books
(The Art of Hoping)
When the man he hunted
For more years than he could count
Asked him to not let his own sins
Stain the life of his child
He was nervous
.
He's a marine
Justice is his job
His moral compass
And his life
Yet here is the man
Who goes against all of that
Asking him to protect his son
.
He's afraid
He'll see that child
And see some sort of evil in him
.
But when he lays eyes on the Brat
Months after the boy's father is dead
He only sees big black eyes
A tuft of black hair
And a freckle or two on one cheek
He never really thought about being a grandfather
(With a son like his
Things like that don't occur to you)
But as he picks the brat up
He swears the kid smiled
.
He swore to himself he wouldn't get attached
Because this is the son
Of the worst
And it doesn't do
To hope for impossible outcomes
(So much for that)
Not one to break promises,
He compromises
And swears
This child
Won't turn out like the last on he raised
(Two counts like that
Would probably break his old heart)
.
When he actually calls his son
And drops a hint or two
About how great kids are
(Even as the Brat is tipping and rolling all over his lap)
Between blatant insults
About what an unjust bastard he is
(The irony escapes him)
He never expected his hints would be answered
(And certainly not with what came of it
His biological grandson
Is just as much a Brat
As his father
And here he was, hoping
That the urge to find justice
Had just skipped a generation)
.
When the Brat grows old enough
To make his way through the world
He drops the kid off
At an old friend's place
And leaves with words about marines
And justice
.
By the time his biological Brat
Has survived some pretty crazy shit
He decides it's time
For the real training to begin
But before he gets around to it
That idiot from that crew
Comes along and ruins everything
With just a few words
A hat
And an arm
(If he was there, he could've done it
And said something about marines
Instead of pirates)
Now, his own flesh and blood
Talks about treasures and adventures
And freedom
He wants to tell the kid
That the marines can give him that
But he's no liar
(When you wear a white coat
While breaking down a wall
You're expected to fix it,
Instead of just running away laughing)
.
(That doesn't stop him from trying)
.
So he drops his biological Brat off
At the bandit's place
So he can become a good marine
(The irony escapes him)
The Brats will get along great
(Probably. Eventually.)
.
Soon, he discovers
That a third Brat has been added
To the equation
And it all comes up to be
A couple of kids
With crazy ideas of being pirates
He tries,
But there are some things
Not even Love can cure
(And he breaks a little on the inside,
But there's still hope)
.
Fast forward a few years,
And he's watching his biological Brat
Run across bloody stone
Screaming and punching
While his other Brat
Kneels and cries out
About how idiotic everyone is
His freckles covered in dirt
And his black hair stained with blood
.
As his old friend
Announces to the world
The name of his Brats' fathers
He breaks a little more
Wondering if he's cursed
Three children
And not one becomes
A good, honest marine
There's not much hope left
.
(Goddamnit, his old heart can't take it)
.
And when he watches
Lava and fists and holes and tears
Listens to the cries of his grandson
And he wants the world to burn
Because he sees this child,
His Brat, that he raised,
Watching him take his first steps
Hearing his first words
Teaching him how to read
He sees him, and doesn't see evil
Just black hair
A few more freckles
Closed eyes
(But he knows they're black)
And he swears the kid is smiling
(He hoped
And promised
This would never happen
World,
What more do you want?)
.
Watching his grandson scream
Blood and dust on his fingers
He finds the real question is,
World, what more can you take?
Because he wants to say
Right now
That Brat is off limits
This is not Justice
And his old heart can't take it
.
(Though it never did help to hope for impossible things)
I apologize for the updates time schedule, but I assure you, where I am, these are posted every day before 12:00 am my time. It didn't occur to me until just now that, depending on where you are, these may not be coming in on the day they're posted (again, my time).
On another note, please check out my new one shot, Tend to Grieve! I put a teaser in the last chapter, and it's my first time posting something that isn't poetry, so feedback is appreciated (also, does anyone know how to fix having problems with the view counter? People have reviewed and favorited Tend to Grieve, but it doesn't show up). I am also currently writing a series of drabbles, which I will begin posting when they are complete. Thank you for your support and requests!
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