The Heart of a Villain - Oneshots

Grovel

"What the hell is going on?"

Rose does not even recognize her own voice. It is the most abrasive tone she's ever used. But she can't help it.

Tom turns to her immediately. He looks...guilty. But it is nothing compared to William's tear stained face. And the fact that he is sitting on a tree branch a good six feet off the ground.

"Get him down this instant!" she snaps.

Tom instantly obeys. He pulls Will from the branch, his hands firmly grasping the two-year-old boy under the arms and setting him down, apparently none the worse for wear. Will runs to her, shouting, "Mommy!" and it's enough to make Rose grind her teeth.

She instantly lifts the boy up into her arms, his legs hooking around her waist as he settles at her hip. She can't even speak to Tom. Just glares at him, and Tom reaches up to smooth the hair at the back of his head, his gesture of discomfort. She whirls around and heads into the house.

Up on a fucking tree branch? What the hell was Tom thinking? If it was just boys having fun she might have understood but Will was crying. And she cannot bear it anymore when Will cries, she just can't.

She comforts her son, soothes him with his favorite TV show and an afternoon snack, and like most boys his age, he calms down rather quickly and eventually gets drowsy after all the adrenaline. He dozes off on the couch while Rose folds towels.

Only then does Tom slink into the room.

He glances at Will, and she notices the knot creasing his brow start to un-knit. He turns his eyes to her but she resolutely looks away. She is still too angry...she can feel her neck burning and her cheeks tingling. Short little hairs along the nape of her neck still stand on end.

"Rose," he tries, his voice very soft. "Rose, he wasn't going to get hurt--"

"I cannot believe you," she hisses, finally turning the death-rays her eyes have become on him. To her satisfaction, he flinches. "I cannot believe you!" she says again. "Do you have any idea--" The tone of her voice rises sharply and she forces herself to lower it, swallowing repeatedly to help. Tom has the good sense to stay silent until she speaks again, at a subdued level, so as not to wake Will. "What if he'd fallen? Did you consider that?"

"He wasn't going to fall," Tom says, annoyance flickering in his eyes.

She sucks in a breath, willing herself not to scream. Instead she snaps the towel in her grip, the loud noise satisfying the urge within her. "You don't know that."

"Rose," Tom sighs, exasperated. She has pushed his temper, she knows, but she does not care, not one bit. Let him come at her, let him growl -- he put her boy up in a tree! A weeping, helpless, two-year-old! "Rose," he goes on, his voice calmer than she expects, "you know he keeps doing it. Every single time, with his elbow, right into my..." he gestures. "Right into my groin! Every time! And I've told him to stop. Warned him! Repeatedly. And he ignores me. I even told him, do it again, you're going up on that branch, there. I had to teach him a lesson--"

The last words nearly make her spit fire. She curls her lips and bares her teeth at him, and Tom stops, utterly taken aback if judging by his facial expression.

"You will not bully my son," she growls at him. As she turns away, indicating the conversation is over, she swears she hears him utter, very softly..."my son."

-----------------

She does not speak to him the rest of the day. At least not without being directly spoken to first.

Will wakes from his nap, plays, and then they eat dinner. They eat at the small table in the kitchen, Will between them, sitting in his booster chair. The boy is a bit subdued, and looks at his father with curiosity. Tom is always the quietest of the three, but even his son can sense the dismal gray cloud over his father's head. Tom hardly speaks, even when they go into the living room, and Will climbs onto his father's lap---