All Is Fair In Love And War

Chapter 9

April 20, 1943

Douxie screamed when the ground exploded with smoke and fire. He was knocked to the ground in the aftershock, curled into a ball as he waited for the world to stop rattling. His ears were ringing, his breathing shaky. He felt something deep inside him burn terribly--painfully hot--and then tear away, leaving a raw, empty cavity in his chest.

He lifted his head when the scorching heat became just a tiny bit more bearable and the ground stopped shaking. All around him was death and destruction and chaos. Faintly he could hear people screaming. In his peripheral he saw soldiers trying to drag their comrades to safety.

"Carter?" He croaked out, face streaked with dirt as he shakily pushed himself to his feet. Douxie stumbled through the smoke and fire, looking around for his partner. "Carter!" He called out again, picking up speed. "Carter, where are you!?"

*~*

Carter woke with a gasp. He blinked, once. Twice. He tried to re-orient himself, sitting up on the old couch. He looked down, hand rubbing against the familiar fabric. This was...- with a start, Carter looked up, swiveling his head to look around the room. This was his mom's apartment. The one he grew up in... the one he'd watched her die in.

"What...?" He whispered, clambering to his feet. "The f-"

"So do you just go looking for danger or does it find you?"

Carter jumped at the voice, hand reaching for his gun. He was a bit surprised he didn't have it. He looked up at the person who spoke, eyes narrowing. "Who the hell are you?"

The man studied him for a moment before a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "You look just like your mother."

Carter frowned. He studied the man too, taking in all his features. He was tall, taller than Carter by a foot or two at least. He had long black hair which he'd tied into a loose ponytail at the back of his head. It didn't help the few strands that fell out around his face. And his face... the dude was handsome in a biker gang sort of way. His features were sharp and angular, hooked nose sporting a nasty scar that ran from the bridge of his nose to the edge of his jaw. A neat beard and mustache covered smaller knicks and scars. And above his left eyebrow down his cheek were three scars, like a wild animal had clawed at his face. The scarred eye was blood red.

"Who are you?" Carter asked again, taking a step back when the man stepped forward.

He smiled warmly and kindly, looking at Carter as if he were the most precious thing in the world. Carter recognized that look. His mother used to look at him that way.

"Carter..." Affection flooded his voice, making Carter back away again. He didn't know this man. "My boy..." He spread his arms, like he was going to hug him. "I've waited twenty years to see you."

Carter stopped and stared at him. Before, he hadn't recognized this man. But now... he could see it. The way he smiled, the mischievous glint in his eye... this was... "Dad?" He asked carefully.

His father smiled wider and approached him, clearly happy when Carter didn't back away again. "My son," he cupped Carter's face gently, rubbing his cheeks with his thumbs. "I've waited so long to see you in person." He studied his face, smile growing fonder, and maybe a bit prouder. "Look at you. You've grown into such a strong young man."

Carter wasn't sure if he should cry, shout, or hug him. So he just stood there staring at him like an idiot. "I... you...-" He closed his eyes and drew in a shaking breath, looking at him once more. "Why did you leave us?"
His father's smile fell and he sighed. "I didn't want to, Carter. Please believe me when I say that. I would have wanted nothing more than to watch you grow up, but... I couldn't stay. It would have put you and your mother in too much danger." He gently brushed his hair away. "I did what was best for you."