A/N:
This has been an extremely, extremely difficult chapter to write, but I think I rose to the challenge!
But I'll some trivia, firstly: originally this and chapter 10 were one chapter. I split them off when I realized at the first draft stage I had enough material for two.
Secondly, I did initially intend to have Hunter just forgive Phillip here and now. I got as far as a full draft of that scene before scrapping it, because to be frank? it would've been too easy. We're way too early on for that. I decided to have a little…fun, instead!
:3c
Then, I realized i might not have actually had enough material for this chapter as it was, so I added the Wittebros stuff…Which, was super hard. Like, I think the Wittebros stuff alone went through a half dozen revisions.
It was difficult, a fun challenge. I'm excited about the direction this fic is heading, and I hope y'all are too.
"I want to make sure you don't hurt anyone ever again!"
Those words replayed ad infinitum in Hunter's mind as he marched to and through Blight manor. He didn't stop for Alador, nor Darius, nor Amity. He walked right up to Phillip's bedroom, and threw the door open.
"Hunter!" Phillip said as he involuntarily flinched. The folder full of drawings in his hand was launched into the air, papers scattering across the floor. Hunter paid them no mind.
Phillip stood up from his chair, with intents to try and pick them up. Hunter looked down at one. And saw the visage of Caleb staring back at him. He stomped the paper under his foot, grinding it against his shoe.
"H…Hunter?" Phillip squeaked, as he tried to approach his nephew. But Hunter let out a huff, and shoved his uncle sharply. He crashed against the floor, his head bouncing against the wall.
"It's actually kind of funny, Belos. You may have fooled Eda, and Amity, and even Luz with this whole 'memory loss' schtick, but you can't fool me. I was your right hand man for yearsssss, I've seen all of your dirty tricks first hand." Hunter spoke, as crouched over his 'Uncle' and grabbed him by the coat. Looking down at the sigil of Gravesfield under his right thumb.
"You're trying to just waltz back into my life?" One hand let go, and he waved it in the air. "After you did THIS to me?" Hunter pointed at the gigantic scar on his face. "In case you…" He said, his free hand making air quotes. "'Can't remember',"
"You tried to kill me…TWICE!" He finally let go of his uncle, and stood up. Looming over him. For most of his life, he looked up to his uncle, but now his uncle was looking up to him. "To answer your letter, no. I will not give you another chance, because I know you're just going to use it to hurt me again."
Hunter turned around, and began to head for the door. But before he exited, he momentarily paused and struck the killing blow.
"I wish you'd stayed dead."
Phillip sat there in shock, but he forced himself to say something before his nephew left. "Hunter, wait!" He begged, holding his hand out.
"What could you possibly have to say?" Hunter turned his head, pausing once again with one foot out the door.
"I just want to say that…" Phillip took a deep breath, his heart in his throat. "I'm proud of you. I'm proud of you, for standing up to me like this. And I'm sure your father would be too."
This line was like a shock to his core. It finally snapped him out of the rage-induced trance he was in. He turned around, and stared at his uncle. Phillip was cowering, with his back against the wall. He was hyperventilating, and tears were streaming down his face.
This sight made Hunter's heart shatter like a pane of glass, for he finally realized that his uncle was telling the truth.
"Oh my titan, what have I done?"
He said under his breath, as he ran off.
Phillip didn't get up. He just laid there, on the ground. In front of him, lay one of Luz's drawings. It was just a sketch, of Caleb's face. But the smile… The smile spoke to something in his very soul. It was kind, reassuring, and sweet.
A memory unlocked.
The year was 1613. A duo of stowaways, the 9 year old Phillip Wittebane and 14 year old Caleb Wittebane were hiding from the world. They were in the cargo hold of a ship. It smelled horrid, of rotting fish and burnt coal. They were…not having the best time of it, to be frank.
The month prior, The Witch Finder General had come to their home. Branded their mother a witch, and their family by proxy. Their mother was the first to disappear. Then, their father made a big deal about 'Marching down to the Witch Hunter General's office, and giving him a piece of my mind.' He never returned home afterwards. Then, the bankers came and repossessed the land. They tried to turn to their community, but they were shunned for being a 'witch family.'
They didn't understand. They were too young to understand any of it. So they believed it. But they didn't just roll over and die, they did as any human would. If they couldn't fight, they would flee.
They'd both dozed off, but they were awakened by the sound of the captain shouting, "LAND AHOY!", loud enough it resonated through the entire ship. Well, it woke Caleb up anyway. His little brother rolled over and fell back asleep.
Caleb shook his brother's shoulder. "C'mon, Phillip."
"I'm up, I'm up…" He grumbled, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"Today starts the first day of our new lives." Caleb said, trying his hardest to put on a brave face for his young brother. "Promise me you won't say a word about what happened…back in England."
"I promise." Phillip said, as he stood up and looked out a porthole. The early morning sun was just starting to raise in the sky, and a dock was in sight. He turned back to his big brother. "Can you promise me something, too?"
"What is it?" Caleb asked, an eyebrow raised.
"Promise me you'll never leave?"
"I promise, Phillip." Caleb said, with a smile. A smile that was king, reassuring, and sweet.
