Work Text:
Alex laid down on his bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
His father’s captive was such a normal part of his life, in as much as anything of his life was normal, for so long that he had never much questioned it. When he was first captured, Alex was still too young to understand, he would have followed anything that his father asked of him, and in more ways than one that was still true, even as he abandoned the hope that this might make his father care about him at all.
There was only one son that his father ever loved, and it wasn’t him. If his father could have traded his life for that of his brother, he would have done so without hesitation. Alex was born unloved, even if he couldn’t understand that at first, and nothing that he ever did with his life would change that, but still he couldn’t help but do what he was told by his father.
He used to think that his father knew best, that he could do no wrong, even when Alex’s every instinct told him that what he said was wrong, but he was starting to doubt it ever more as he grew. Still, he couldn’t just ignore his father. Even if he was wrong, he was still a powerful man, and Alex more feared him than respected him, it had been this way for as long as he could remember.
Keeping that entity trapped was wrong, Alex knew as much, but he couldn’t challenge his father, and now he also had to fear the entity’s wrath. He was too involved in all of this now, and even if he wanted to risk whatever his father would do if he challenged him now, he would never have the courage to face what that entity might do to him. His father could only kill him, but there was no telling what sort of punishment the entity would have in store for him.
He didn’t mean to kill the raven. It was out of despair that he did so, panicking over the exchange that he had with his father earlier, more afraid of his father than he was of his conscience or even of what might happen to him in the future.
That little display of conscience, even if he hadn’t acted on it, was enough for father to see it as his weakness. Everything that he did was a weakness to his father, and at times he couldn’t help but wish that he had been the one to die as his father so clearly wished so that their family would still have some love in it, as he could never hope to win his father’s love. He didn’t want to be weak, didn’t want to be someone that his father didn’t even hate, only despised.
And his father had a point, even before. Releasing the entity wouldn’t assure that they’d be rid of him, it wouldn’t even assure that they’d be spared any vengeance. Even if he could change his mind now and do things differently, all the years spent in that cage were not likely to be forgotten, and he dreaded to think what sort of punishment that creature might think for him, his own mind filled with all sorts of horrible ideas, and he was only human.
If even before his odds hadn’t been good, they were sure to be disastrous now. He knew there would be no escaping punishment, the only thing that he could do was hope that it was so delayed that the real Death would come to pick him up before that, and that this would mean that he would be safe from any other punishment. At least that was the advantage of his father’s failure to capture Death as he had planned, since if that had happened they wouldn’t have had any hope of escaping.
His father’s words were still fresh in his head, echoing louder than all other thoughts, and there was the chaos of the fire. He knew that the raven was important, although he wasn’t supposed to know. He always listened to his father’s conversations when he could, trying to understand the man a little better, in the hopes of one day perhaps being able to find something that his father wanted and he could do, something that would earn him at least the minimum of recognition, even if not love. His father might never respect him, and never care about him, but perhaps one day he could see Alex as more than just a burden.
It was probably in vain, but he still tried, and that was how he first learned of the raven. The beautiful raven that for years stayed around, looking for an opportunity to strike. And when it did, it was so swift that he didn’t have the time to think, only to react. Instinct and self-preservation taking over and not having him a chance to consider his own actions.
He had learned to shoot birds with one of his father’s followers, although it was something that a boy should do with his father, but his never cared to spend any time with him if he could help it. He hoped that by learning something so traditional he could earn some praise, but his father had never noticed, and yelled at him when he tried to extend him an invitation to go hunting, hoping that without having to teach him his father might tolerate the idea. Not even in this he could be right, even though he knew that his father and brother went hunting when he was too young to go along. It was just another one in his long line of failures.
Deep down, he couldn’t help but feel that there was something different about him, something that made his father treat him in this way, finding his very presence repugnant. He wished that he knew what it was, so maybe he could do something different, so he could try to find a way to fix himself so his father wouldn’t be so disgusted by him.
The sound seemed louder in the chamber, not at all as it had been shooting outside, and it was only when he was taken over by that deafening sound that he realized the mistake that he had made. The entity was nearly escaping, and if he did, there was no telling what he would do to them, but Alex hadn’t truly meant to kill the raven, not in any real sense of the word. He only wished to keep it from breaking the cage, and that was the only way that he found, not forming the intent to kill, but simply stopping a bird as one stopped birds, by shooting at them.
Even that wasn’t good enough for his father, even for that action, taken in despair to save them, he was blamed. It was always like this, his entire life, even when the consequences were exactly what his father wanted, what he did was always wrong simply because he had done it, because he was wrong. It was impossible to win his father’s affection, and yet he kept trying, knowing that he could only ever fail, because he didn’t know how to do anything else. He only knew how to be his father’s son, even despised as he was.
His stomach turned when he had to grab the body of the raven, and he felt a chill down his spine, imagining the vengeance of the powerful being they had made the mistake of capturing, when it one day came. And it was sure to come, he wasn’t as confident as his father that they’d be able to escape this without consequence. Nothing could last forever, not even that trap, and that creature could have allies that would one day come for him.
He doubted that he would be able to sleep that night, haunted as he was by that split second decision, still hearing the explosion in his ears as if he was continuously firing against the raven, an act that he was sure now that cursed him beyond any escape. If only he had released the captive when he had the chance, done so quickly before his father could have come and changed his mind for him, then he would never have been in that position, and maybe he would have been spared the punishment, and even spared his father as he would have been the target of the vengeance, but it was too late to wish now. Too late to hope for any salvation.
As much as his father might wish otherwise, and he did, often and loudly, he was his father’s son, and he would now share in his fate just as he shared in his blame and continued to do so now, even though he wanted to be different, even though he wanted to escape his father and this house and everything to do with magic.
His own actions would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he hated his father for it. He hated that he was involved in this from a young age with no say in the matter, simply because his father wanted the return of the son he could love, and the son that he had left was so awful that his father would rather risk breaking the natural laws than to keep just him. He hated that his life and safety were always the first to be risked by his father whenever there was a need, because his father either didn’t care enough to try to preserve him, or was too much of a coward to take any risk himself, more than likely both. He hated that in his eagerness to do what his father wanted, he crossed a line he couldn’t uncross, and now he feared for his future, in as much as he ever had a future.
He hated that a part of him still loved his father, and might never be able to stop, no matter how much hurt his father had caused him, and would still cause him.
He wondered for how long this situation could continue. His father was turning more and more unhinged, and Alex feared every moment that he was the focus of that rage, and they were more frequent now than ever. His father might even kill him without intending to, and somehow that might be the best possible outcome.
All he wanted was to find a way to escape this situation, to live his own life, and yet he feared that he couldn’t. There would be no escaping his father, he would hunt him if necessary, not because he cared about his son, but because no property of him could be taken from him, no matter how worthless. The entity as well might follow him to enact his revenge, unless he was kept in that cage for as long as Alex lived, so Alex had cause to want to stay and make sure that this would happen.
The raven was important to him, it stayed for ten years trying to find a way to rescue him. Something like that wouldn’t be forgiven, even if he was the one to give the creature his freedom. And Alex didn’t know if he could forgive himself, or if he even should. He didn’t know who he was becoming under his father’s influence, but it was something that he didn’t want to be, but perhaps it was too late to change now. Perhaps it had been too late since the day that he was born, and there was never any hope for him.
He wanted something different, he wanted to be able to live a life of his choosing, but that was not for him to have, not as long as his father had any say in the matter. No, his father would never allow him any freedom, only his dead body, and so Alex couldn’t live his own life as long as his father was still alive.
All that he had were worries and fears, the outcome of a life lived in the shadows, never cared for and never loved, but still loving and wishing for love, still caring and wishing for care.
Dreadful, inescapable, corrupting, soul-destroying. That was the life that his father gave him, the only life that his father would allow him to have.
For that night, Alex laid in his bed, surrounded by the sound of that shot, and he didn’t sleep. Most of the nights after that he didn’t sleep.