The Aberrations of S.I.D.E.

No. 47: Flame Blown Out

Augustus walked to his mother's office alone.

Ian had wanted to go with him, to hold his hand, to stand by him through anything that would happen. But Augustus knew that he'd end up taking the fall, just like he always did when they were kids.

Not this time.

His breathing quickened when he finally reached the door, knowing what was probably going to happen.

It's okay, he told himself. You did what you could. You were a hero, in a way. And Ian loves you back. He always has.

Augustus steeled his nerves and wrenched open the door.

His mother looked up from her desk, surprised. "Augustus? You haven't been to my office in nearly a year." She sat forward a little. "Actually, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were going out of your way to avoid me."

Don't look at the carpet. You know it's there, you know she couldn't get it out. Don't fucking look at the carpet.

Augustus's good eye flicked down to the carpet, where the small splatters of blood had faded to brown a while ago. "Um. Yeah. I was."

"Can't imagine why—" Augustina followed his gaze. "Oh, are you still angry about that? That was almost a year ago, sweetheart. I needed to punish you in some way."

"You couldn't have just grounded me or something?" Augustus said, not quite sure where he was finding the courage to say this out loud. "Because that's what most parents do when their kid fucks up, but most parents don't kidnap a kid for no reason."

"No rea—he'd be essential to our cause, Augustus. Where is this all coming from?"

"It's coming from the fact that you're a shit mom," he snapped, feeling the dam finally break. "You always have been, and you always will be, and I've known that ever since I saw what you did to Jules. I was fucking ten, and I saw my older brother, who I looked up to and loved and thought was the best person who ever existed, get half of his face melted and his hand cut off by our fucking parents. Do you even have any idea what that does to a kid?"

Augustina's nails started to dig into her desk. "Augustus—"

"I spent five fucking years trying to avoid that ever happening to me, and I turned into a psychopath because of it!" Augustus yelled, throwing his arm into the air. "Because that's the son you wanted, right? You want a son who'll torture people with a smile on his face if you asked? You want a son who'd do anything to make sure you get what you want, even if it came down to hurting an already-fucked-up kid? Guess what, Macklemore—you want a soldier, not a son, and you don't get that anymore!"

She closed her eyes with a sigh. "If you're going to be hysterical, I would prefer you do it somewhere else—"

Augustus let out a little laugh. "You know something, Mommy Dearest? You stabbing out my eye might have been the best thing that ever happened to me. That was the wake-up call I needed to know that I shouldn't be serving a cause I don't even believe in, and once the flashbacks started, that was all it took for me to realize that I've been a shitty person for no goddamned reason." He spread his hands. "This is a confession. I sent those emails. I went behind your back to take this down. And I'd do it again with a smile on my face, because for once in my life, I did something I'm proud of."

Silence followed that, broken only by the clock over their heads ticking almost ominously.

"You're the turncoat, huh?" Augustina said dryly, an eyebrow raised in skepticism.