The Revenge of Devil | Irondad, pepperony

Chapter 39

Richard said nothing and instead thought carefully about her words. All these years he blamed himself for not being able to protect her from Mary's upbringing. He tried to be a loving father to her, but the truth was that Teresa never cared for him. Maybe it was because he wasn't her biological parent, maybe because he was by her side throughout her childhood. Perhaps if he had neglected her as well as Mary, she would have longed for his opinion and recognition. But when he heard her talk about Peter, he realized that he had probably been wrong all these years. As a parent, he wanted to do everything he could to protect his child from the cruel world, but as they stood there watching Mary's grave in silence, he realized that he was not the one who could save her. He knew that Teresa had surpassed her mother a long time ago and had become a much worse person than Mary could ever be, but she still differed from her in one thing. Mary did not express feelings. None. Never. To no one. When she spoke of Peter, of her own son, she spoke of him like any other experimental sample. When Teresa spoke of Peter, he felt as if he had seen old Teresa again for a moment. His daughter. Peter was her last link to a normal life. He was her last living relative. He was her little brother. He was her last chance to be rescued.

Unconsciously, he reached into the pocket of his tweed jacket. He wasn't sure if it was too late, but it was his ultimate option. "I didn't mean to show it to you, but you probably need to see it. Then you may realize what it really means to have a little brother," he said softly, handing her an old photograph he had recently found based on forgotten research.

The brunette frowned but took a photo from him. Her frown deepened as she understood what she was looking at. Two children lay on a blanket on the grass. Preschool girl and barely a few months old baby. The boy held the girl's finger with his chubby hand. Both children looked happy. She didn't have to be a genius to know who the children were. She and Peter.

"Did she bring him there?" she asked, her voice full of rage. That audacity! How could anything like that occur to her at all? "Let me guess, she needed to work on research, and you, as her blinded follower, offered to look after her child," she chuckled venomously.

"I've never seen you happier than that day," he told her in a firm voice. He knew he was taking a lot of risks, but he still naively believed she wouldn't hurt him. Not after all those years together.

"Did you enjoy taking care of children who weren't yours?" she snapped.

Richard knew he had hit her sensitive spot, and now she wanted to hit his. But he didn't care. All he cared about was getting behind her cold-blooded mask. He found a crack. There was still a chance. They could still save her.

"This was your most embarrassing attempt," she continued as he was silent. "We leave in the evening and you will come with me. I want you to be there. I'll leave them one more day. I'll leave them tomorrow and their wedding. I'll let them be happy for a while and then crush them. I'll destroy them like cockroaches," she told him, then crumpled the photo and threw it on her mother's tombstone. Then she turned to leave.

Richard didn't understand how he could be so blind. Maybe it started with revenge. Teresa must have been trying to say it herself. But now he saw that it had been something else all along. "Tell me one more thing," he said, looking at her to see if she would stop, which she did, but she turned her back on him. "Do you want to destroy them to avenge the little girl and her naive dreams? To avenge your mom? Or do you want to destroy them so you can have Peter just for yourself?"

•••

"Exceptionally, you were right. It's really beautiful here," Michelle smiled as they finished touring the farm. When they arrived, Rhodey was waiting for them, who had arrived a few minutes before them. The adults went for coffee, while Peter insisted that he would show Michelle around here before his parents and Tommy arrived.

"I know," said Peter, who was so happy he didn't even respond to her remark that he was exceptionally right. "Did I tell you I found this place?"

"About five times," the brunette grinned.

"I don't know, I've seen nicer places," a man's voice said suddenly beside them. Michelle jumped in fright, but it didn't work out with Peter. He was so happy with his upcoming parents' wedding that he forget that it was Loki and wanted to hug him, which didn't work out. "I'm not really here," the dark-haired god grinned as Peter passed through him. "And never hug me again."

"It is not fair. Why can Mom hug you and I can't?" Peter protested, a smile fading from his face for a millisecond. But really only for a millisecond. "You really have to be here this afternoon. We have a rehearsal and we have to take mom to the altar," he reminded him.

We have to take Mom to the altar. Loki wanted to fix him and tell him it was just his mom and not their mom, but he changed his mind. He realized very quickly that he was probably the only one looking for something more.

"Look, you can be seen in the pictures, right?" Michelle asked, earning two puzzled looks. "Well, when you are the god... for example vampires are not in the photos, that's a well-known fact," she explained.

"MJ, vampires don't exist," Peter laughed, looking at Loki in astonishment. "Or do they exist?!"

Loki grinned. "As far as I know, yes, we can be seen in the photos," the brown-haired man replied, leaving the question of the existence of vampires unanswered. "Tell your mother I'll be here this afternoon," he said with a serious face to Peter and disappeared.

"Peter! Michelle! They've arrived, come help us," Rhodey shouted at them, standing not far from them.

"I'll take it all out of the car myself!" Peter shouted happily at him, to which the older man had to laugh. "Races?" he asked his girlfriend.

"Definitely not. But just run, I'll be right behind you," she urged. She hadn't seen Peter so happy and carefree in a long time. She hoped he would stay that way for a while.

"How old is he? Fifteen or five?" Rhodey grinned as Michelle reached him.

"Believe me, I ask myself this question almost constantly," she replied casually. Suddenly she had no idea what she was so afraid of. It was strange, but she felt she belonged here. And why not? Peter's family was made up of very diverse people. She fit in perfectly.