Different [A Superhero AU] - Book One

Chapter Forty-Four - The Love of a Father

Cry sits in front of his father's desk, his mask shrouded by darkness as he hangs his head. The boss' face is illuminated by the light of the screen in front of him, a terrifying delight on his countenance.

"This... this is what I wanted. This is good," he says softly, brushing his fingers against the device's edges.

Cry lifts his head, glancing at his father. A mixture of disgust and confusion rushes through him as he observes the man in front of him. As a little boy, Cry had looked up to him. He was his father; a big, strong man who had all the answers. He was the only person Cry had. For years, the masked villain had deified his father. He wanted to make him proud, because pride, in Cry's eyes, meant love. If his father was proud, it meant he loved him and cared about him. Even after the boss had ordered his mutation, Cry felt it must have happened because he cared about him. When his father was diagnosed with liver cancer, Cry had become more determined to inherit the villain institute because it would make his dad happy.

Now, he isn't so sure. The cruelty, the destruction... Is this the legacy he wants to take over when his father finally succumbs to his illness?

"Dad?" Cry asks. At the pointed glare the boss gives him, the villain sighs. "Father?"

"Yes, Cry?"

"Why did you decide to do this to San Francisco?"

His father sighs heavily. "I suppose that if you are going to take over this operation when I am gone, you should at least know why I do what I do." He pauses, folding his hands together. "I am an angry man, son. Nothing has ever gone right for me, and I want revenge for it. I want revenge and I want power. Now that I have the most powerful men in the city under my thumb, and as soon as I bring Curatrix to its knees, I will rule this city. These people will pay heed to my every desire and do my every bidding.  That is why I have done all that I have done."

Cry takes a deep breath, the words slipping out of him before he has the sense to stop them.  "Is Mom the reason you're so angry?"

His father's face twists as though he's just bitten a lemon. His voice is quiet, dangerous. "They didn't save her, and someone must pay for that. I had money to give them, and they still didn't do anything!"

"But an entire city of people?" Cry demands. "Do they deserve death just because one woman couldn't be saved?"

"Yes! If these people had done something, if someone had commanded them to help, she would still be with us!"

Silence falls between them.  The boss, upon realizing that he stood up, slowly lowers himself into his chair and folds his hands on his desk. 

Cry's voice is soft when he finally speaks. "No matter how much money you gave them, she died in childbirth. It's not the doctor's fault."

The boss looks at him, his expression filled with spite. The very room seems to grow chilly beneath his gaze. "You look like her, you know. Every time I saw your face, I was reminded of her. You're right, it's not the doctor's fault.  It's yours."

The words strike Cry like a bullet.  He sits and stares, shellshocked, for a moment before finally finding it in him to speak.  He may regret the question, but he feels obliged to ask it.  "Do you love me, father?"

The boss almost laughs. "I never wanted children, you know. But your mother was so adamant about having a family..."

Cry stands from his chair and slams his hands down on the table, silencing the boss in an instant.  A fury that he has never felt before rises in his chest, making him nearly shake.  "Do you love me?"

His father glares at him, observing every inch of the white mask that covers his face. His gaze sends unpleasant chills down Cry's spine. "No.  I never have."

The masked villain has to stop himself from stumbling back. Every time he performed unspeakable things to please his father, every time he believed that he was loved and cherished by his only parent, it was a falsehood. A part of him already knew that his father cared little to none about him, but hearing it? It's a completely different kind of hurt.

"You have always desired affection above all else, ever since you were little," the boss says. "You build up walls, Cry, with the hope that someone will come along and tear them down."

The masked villain wants so badly not to listen, choosing to stand and head towards the exit.  As he places his hand on the door handle, his father speaks again.

"Take over this institute when I die and continue my work. That will make me love you."

Cry freezes. Part of his brain screams at him not to listen, that his father is lying to him, but another part, the bigger part, begs him to agree. His father will finally care about him! Isn't that what he wants?

Cry has discovered, over the years, that every villain has a weakness. Someone with the power to control shadow is weakened by someone with the power to control light, someone with telescopic vision might need glasses when seeing normally, etcetera. However, everyone also has a personal weakness, and in some cases, that can be much more devastating that something that simply hinders your power.

Cry nods, succumbing to the allure of a loving parent. "Yes, father."