Random Stuff

Oh Shit, Richard's Dead

Tito sat at his desk, his eyes dull, his hands clasped together.

Dead.  Richard was dead.

Of all the things he'd been through, losing his wife, watching good men die at his hands, sending boys out to do terrible things...  This hurt the most.  He could barely breathe, his heart aching.  There was no denying that he'd always favoured his eldest son.  He was the spitting image of Paradox, jet black hair, cold grey eyes, thin and tall, intimidating to the max.  Or at least he had been.  Now he was little more than ash, burnt to a crisp while he slept.

His wife was gone too, a nice Darvian girl who he'd met on holiday two years prior.  The only thing left was his infant daughter.

Tito didn't think he could take it.  He'd lost everything.  His heir who he'd trained for years, his first child, his son...

Gods, it was like a knife through his heart.  To make matters worse, Giovanni had refused to take over the business.  He didn't want the responsibility, or so he said.  Tito was heirless.

There was a tentative knock at his door, he could tell it was Giovanni's by the way that he rapped his knuckles on the mahogany with no pattern.  His own dead tone surprised him as he called his youngest into the office.

Giovanni looked like his mother, thin face, blue eyes, darker skin.

"Um... Hey Pop.  They...that is, Grant, says that there's no one to take the kid."

He bit his lip, lowering his eyes.

"They said that if you don't take her... they'll have to put her in the orphanage.  Her mother didn't have any living family."

Tito's gaze was cold.

"They did, did they?"

"Yes sir."

"Hmmf.  Show me where they are."

Giovanni led him to the living room, where Grant was cradling a tiny child.  The girl was wrapped in a blue blanket, her silver eyes wide and observent.  They were strikingly like her father's.  She mewled, reaching out with a tiny hand and trying to grab Tito.  She gurgled something, smiling.

"Dadadadadadada..."

Pain flashed over the mobster's face.  "S-she thinks I'm Richard..."

Grant nodded gruffly, carrying the girl towards the hardened criminal.

"Here.  Even if you don't want to keep it, at least let her see her father one last time."

Tito took the girl, the baby burbling happily.  She reached out, grabbing his tie with one hand and staring into his eyes with her own.

His vision blurred with tears.  She was just like Richard...  A tiny poof of jet black hair sprouted from her head.

"Dadadadadadada..."

He smiled, holding her to his chest, blinking back tears.

"Hey there, little one..."

Grant grunted.  "Her name is Alex.  Alexandra Maximilian Dawson.  I haven't a clue *why*, but that's what they named her."

"Alex..." Tito mused.  "H-how old is she?"

"She was born July 1, sir.  She'll be four months next week."

Paradox smiled weakly.

"Was anything left over.  Any toys, or...?"

Grant handed over a stuffed jackal, an old toy of Richard's.  Tito recognized it immediately.

"She was holding onto this when we found her."

Tito took the toy, smiling down into his granddaughter's face.

"Good.  She's going to need something to play with until I can get her some more things..."

"So we're keeping her then?" Giovanni asked, tentative excitement in his voice.

"Of course we will," Tito said.  "She's... she's family."