AN: Hiya! Just wanted to clarify a few things for you guys who asked questions! No Isabelle is not going to jump off a bridge as much as you guys wish she would lmao! And as for my gender I am female, and I'm twenty six~ Okay and now for the most asked question! When will there be M/M? SOON PEOPLE GEEZ! Edd can't very well take on anything strenuous until he's somewhat healed! Lol Poor guy just got pushed into traffic and then hit by a car he has a lot on his plate already to worry about. But I do promise there WILL be smut to be had! Any other questions please hit me up through a pm or you can always ask through a review ;)! As always I love you guys and thank you for reading, reviewing and kudoing! Also this is a much needed interlude/filler chapter soooorryyyyy!
Being a Vincent had always meant having a good grip on one's emotions at all times.
Alastair knew that more than most what with the frigid woman he called his wife; who was not even in the hospital anymore let alone in the room their son was bedridden in.
Yes he would admit to being a stern man now, but he hadn't always been so and you might actually be surprised to hear that he cared for his son deeply.
In fact in a way his son quite reminded him of himself at that age.
Stuck in those awkward stages between childhood, teenage lankiness, and the cusp of adulthood.
He himself had been quite a bit taller mind you, but Isabelle's genes had to take root in the boy in someway he supposed.
Thankfully his personality was all Eddward's own despite the harsh circumstances he had originally promised himself he would prevent his own child from experiencing.
But along the way of things veered, even that promise had gone astray and was now broken at the very seams.
His own childhood had been nearly identical in every aspect save for the location, and the choice of schooling.
Public schooling had been his choice for Eddward.
He had wanted to give his son the chance at making friends, and he knew boarding school would give him little chance at that.
It was the one small mercy that he could allow him, and it was the only thing he had ever put his foot down about with Isabelle; who had wanted to ship him off to another country entirely at the literal drop of a hat the moment he had become old enough for schooling.
Isabelle and he had never seen eye to eye and I suppose there were many reasons for that one very large one being that their marriage had been an arranged one from the very start.
The had been promised to eachother from a young age out of the pure conveniences of their parents.
In such a union there would never be love to be found, that much was to be certain.
Especially seeing as Isabelle wasn't exactly quite the right gender to match his prefered tastes.
Which he noted unfortunately that his son's preferences seemed to aline with his own.
When his wife had found this out, it had ensured a long screaming match about how he had passed on such disgusting weaknesses onto their son.
Now knowing Isabelle she would try anything and everything within her power to squash any lingering blossom of feelings between the two teenage boys.
It was unnatural to her eyes, and always would be a stigma in their family, the elephant in the room that everyone knew about but that no one acknowledged.
From the very start Isabelle was clearly not mother material, she was the cold calculating, prim and proper, aloof product of her own sorrowful upbringing.
Their marriage had been one to bridge a familiar allied road between Vincent Inc which at the time had been one of the most famously known Pharmaceutical companies in the United Kingdom; and La'Rouge Shipping an international cargo company stationed in harbor of New York in the United states.
They had been pressured and expected to make an heir to eventually lead both companies sooner rather than later.
This Isabelle had been against.
She had never wanted a child, she thought them messy and loud distasteful little creatures and often vocally voiced this when they had been out.
Whenever they had coupled, which had been few and far in between they had used condoms, or birth control.
Sometimes even having used both.
But he knew it had to be only a matter of time until they slipped up as most couples do.
Long winded story short the condom broke one night, and Isabelle had become pregnant with their son Eddward.
It had been a terrible pregnancy, mainly because to Isabelle it was a very much unwanted one.
Her parents monitored her daily, making sure she didn't do anything stupid to effect the pregnancy negatively.
And I, well I took care of her the very best that I could given our less then stellar relationship.
Which was harder than you think seeing as that Isabelle had never been very stable mentally.
She often suffered from PTSD trigered from her childhood, depression, and panic anxiety.
Un-medicated for all three, she was ten times worse than usual while pregnant.
Throughout the whole of the pregnancy she had night terrors, and leaned too closely to teetering toward being suicidal to his liking.
More often than not he had to remind her to eat, and take care of herself.
She was forced to take off from work by her second trimester and barely left the house until the birth it's self.
It was one of the first and last times in their marriage that he had ever seen true vulnerability from Isabelle.
After Eddward was born she had wanted literally nothing to do with him.
It had fallen to him to take care of their sons needs when he was not at work.
Thinking about it now, this is probably where Eddward's self-efficient nature had rooted from, because as soon as he could reach things from the fridge and shelves from standing on chairs he had taken his own upbringing into his own hands.
By the time their son was five they decided to move from New York City, to Peach Creek.
A relatively small and quaint town nowhere special on the maps just somewhere quiet to bring up their child in a relative calm.
This had been another time that he had won an argument against Isabelle, this one regarding where to live.
He shifted in the uncomfortable chair stationed next to Eddward's bedside.
A sigh nervous mannered sigh issued from his lips he unfolded his hands from his lap and hesitantly brought one up to brush aside some of the stray raven bangs not held by the confines of the gauze wrapped around his son's head.
He might not have showed it very often, but he did care for his son.
Just as Isabelle did in her own twisted morbid version of motherly love.
Though he liked to think he cared a tad more for Eddward than she did.
After all he was the one sitting with their comatose son, not her.
He had regrets, so many of them he had lost count long ago
And seeing his son so motionless and broken in a hospital bed just brought them all to the forefront of his mind.
He had been a terrible father for one, neglectful, resentful, you name it he was probably it.
Did he deserve to be forgiven?
Probably not, he couldn't decide on his own.
After all forgiveness was not earned but given freely.
All he could do now was wait.
And to be fair, that's what his son had been doing all along hadn't it?