darker_london | Explanations (Spectre, Samson, Thomas) (Reply)

It was the first time Spectre had ever been to see his father alone. He hadn't told Thomas about it, not in an attempt to keep him out of the loop, but only because it was the spur of a moment decision made when Thomas was out. He needed to speak to Samson now about what had happened with Braeden and what had happened to him and if he waited for Thomas to get home, he would talk himself out of it.

He entered Samson's room and immediately the older man stood to greet his son. Spectre smiled shyly, hanging around the door for a split second until he felt more comfortable with moving deeper into the room. "Hello, Father."

"Adrian! It's been a long time. Thomas has been to see me, though he never told me why you didn't come. Are you alright?" Spectre had a feeling, deep down, Samson was worrying about whether Spectre felt forgiving him had been a bit pre-emptive and he wanted to take it back. It wasn't that at all. He really wished Thomas were here with him...

"I'm fine, Father. Now, anyway. Can we sit down?" Spectre waited until Samson nodded, and then he took a seat across from his father, once Samson had sat down. "I uhm...I went to Morrissey's Glen..."

Samson had known this. He nodded, eager to hear news of his father. "Yes? Did you find Braeden?"

"I...did-" Spectre bit his lip, suddenly very worried Samson was about to go back on all of his progress. He had to give Samson the benefit of the doubt, but it was hard. Quite frankly, he was scared his father would snap and make him see some terrible and painful vision. And yet he stayed right where he was. "Samson, I...it was an accident. When I arrived, Braeden was strapped to a...a machine? I don't even entirely understand why, but in trying to save him from it, I accidentally...I turned it on."

Samson's face sobered and for a split second, he looked like the cold man of Spectre's youth. Spectre's stomach turned to ice. "What?"

"The judge...she was an angel and a medium and she was trying to take over the town. I think she wanted rid of Braeden and when I activated whatever it was he was strapped to...he's gone, Father. I'm so sorry."

"My father is..." Samson sat stone-still for a moment and then he raised to his feet. Spectre flinched, but Samson only went to stand at the window, staring out at the courtyard below. Much to Spectre's relief, Samson never asked when this had all happened.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

Samson wrapped his arms around himself; a sign of weakness the likes of which he had never before witnessed in Samson. "I had thought we would speak again."

This was where Spectre could comfort his father. He was the one with the knowledge of the way their world actually worked and now that Samson had seen it with his own eyes, he knew it to be true. He would know Spectre wasn't deceiving him. Still, Spectre had very little experience comforting someone like Samson. He wasn't sure where to start, so he just tried his best. "Dad," he said, rising to his feet as well. He was unsteady, but he made his way over to stand beside Samson at the window. "If you speak. Braeden will hear you."

"...he will?" Samson looked to his son, his eyes searching.

"He will," Spectre soothed him. "When Thomas was gone, I used to talk to him all the time. And I knew he would hear me." Save for that terrible two months when they feared Thomas was gone for good. "Braeden will hear you. And he will see you too. And, when you feel you are ready, you can go speak with him. You have to be careful though, Father. You could get stuck there..."

"Would that be such a tragedy-?"

"Yes!" Spectre said quickly, and then he bit his lip to reign in his outburst. Samson was looking at him, shocked, but he didn't look angry. That was a relief. "Father, it would be a tragedy to me! I know I shouldn't have stayed away so long, and I am sorry for that. But don't I have the right to get to know you, Father? We've just moved past a major roadblock. You get out of here in a week. I don't want you shuffling off to the Beyond just when I have a chance to really get to know you! Especially not-" Spectre took a deep breath. "Especially not when it would be my fault, because I killed Braeden!"

Samson looked shocked and he turned towards his son. "Adrian, you said he was already-"

"I turned the damn thing on! It was an accident, but I did it. I had to watch what it did to him. Don't you dare make me feel responsible for your death too!" He had never, ever spoken to his father like this. He had make bitchy comments when he was older, and he had stood up to the man, but this was different. This was demanding something of Samson.

"I won't-" Samson promised, and Spectre actually believed him.

"I wanted to tell you about this sooner. I was coming to see you and I..." Spectre sighed and then he showed Samson his wrists. The scars from the nails the Templar had driven through his wrists were still there, and just below them, the scars from the surgery which had corrected the damage they had done. All around his wrists were scars from the barbed wire, though the worst of those had healed themselves when he had been taken down. Bloodloss equalled death, equalled self-healing.

Samson's eyes widened and he looked up at his son, shocked. "What happened?!"

"Do you remember the religious men we had to save Thomas from? The Templar? They took me away because..." Spectre gave his father a furtive glance as he said the next thing. "...because I'm gay." The look of guilt on his father's face was not necessarily something Spectre was sorry to see... "And they don't like the message my music sends. They aren't fans of freedom."

"What did they do to you?" Samson growled, his voice deep and dangerous.

"They...they hung me from a cross in the centre of some tiny town in Romania. Thomas and Peter and Flynn had to come save me. I'm still recovering. My arms...they don't really want to work and it's hard to play my guitar-"

"They what!?" Samson hissed, interrupting Spectre's words. "They WHAT?!"

"They...Father-"

Samson clenched his fists together and he strode away from the window. He looked like he was wrestling with his feelings. He had made Spectre feel like he was being crucified time and time again while Spectre was growing up. It had all been part of his spiritual education. Samson would never have actually done such a thing. "Those cretins."

"Dad-"

"Adrian, don't comfort me about a terrible ordeal you went through. I should be comforting you. I'm so sorry... Are...are you alright? Is Thomas taking care of you?"

Spectre smiled easily at that. Thomas always made it easy to smile. "My Thomas is taking exquisite care of me, Father. And I'm...I'm getting to be alright. I wasn't. But I'm healing."

And before Samson could say another word, Thomas himself stuck his head in the door. "Babe? I've been looking all over for you. Hey, Samson. Uhm...Honey, Mums was attacked at the hospital after Mad Dog's appointment."

Spectre felt the blood drain from his face, and in his panic, he forgot Samson was even there. "Mums?! Is she okay?"

"She's alright, but we're headed over. Do...do you just want me to let you know how she is?" he asked, glancing at Samson again.

"No," Spectre said, moving to the door. Patching things up with Samson was important. Being with the woman who had taken him under her wing without a second thought, and treated him with nothing but unconditional love, while she went through something traumatic...that was more important. "I'm coming. I'm sorry, Father. I'll come back soon-"

"It's alright, Adrian. I understand. Please give Lavinia my regards and my hope that she has a speedy recovery."

"We will," Spectre said quickly, and he ducked out of the room, taking his husband's hand as he did so.