To be a Commander

The Bittersweet Taste of Vengeance

Halt narrowed his eyes at the tracks. It was relatively easy to follow. Beside him, Crowley hummed a soft tune, eyes far away.

As they followed the trail, Halt's keen ears picked up the sound of voices. A glance towards his companion verified that Crowley did, too. Silently as ever, Crowley snuck towards the bandits they were tracking and froze.

Surprised, Halt quietly hurried after him. It was a group of about seven. More than enough for them to handle. He shifted his eyes towards Crowley and saw a cold, angry look in his hazel eyes. His face was expressionless.

"Halt." Crowley murmured in a quiet undertone, "could I take care of this?"

Halt frowned. "Alone?" he whispered back. Crowley nodded, determination tensing his muscles. 

"Help me pin everyone except that big guy in the middle." he whispered. 

Confused, Halt complied, firing off three arrows in quick succession. Crowley did the same.

The big guy, clearly the leader, jumped up and started in surprise when Crowley appeared silently in front of him.

"Hello." Crowley said lightly. Halt could hear that it was forced. "Now, you mind coming with me? Quietly." It was a tone that gave no room for argument.

The big man snarled, withdrawing his sword from his scabbard, But twice as quickly, Crowley had an arrow on his bowstring.

"Make a move, and I'll shoot that weapon out of your hand." he said coldly. "Another step and you won't have a hand to fight with. And if you're idiotic enough to take another step, you'll have to do the rest with only half your limbs."

In spite of himself, Halt shivered. Crowley was rarely so angry or threatening. And it was hard to genuinely anger him. If you did, you would be lucky to get out with only ten arrow wounds, a mild concussion, half a dozen broken ribs, and a large gash.

The bandit carefully let his weapon fall. "Who are you?" he demanded.

Crowley laughed coldly, throwing back his hood with only his head. "Don't recognize me, do you, father?"

Halt stiffened. This man was Crowley's father? Now that Halt looked a bit more closely, he could see the same hazel eyes, pale skin, and red hair. That was where the resemblance ended. The man was big and broad and tall, with heavily defined muscles. Whereas Crowley was short and slender. He probably took more after his mother.

The bandit stopped, eyes widening. "C-Crowley?" he demanded. Then a sneer came to his face. "You can't hit me, boy." 

Crowley stiffened, and the bandit started forwards, then stopped abruptly when two arrows slammed straight into his legs. At point-blank range, the arrows were devastating and he fell to the ground, groaning. Completely merciless, two arrows pinned him to a nearby tree. 

Smiling coldly, Crowley stepped forwards. "There's just one problem." he said chillingly. "I'm not scared of you anymore. You gave up the right to be my father a long time ago. I have new people now. Halt. He's like my brother! And Pritchard, who was more my father than you ever were." Crowley spat on his father's face, completely disgusted. "Tell me, father, am I so worthless? So useless? So stupid and weak now?"

Crowley's father smirked up at him, but Halt could see slight fear in his gaze.

"You're weak." he spat. "You couldn't kill me or hurt me badly now, son. Even if I beat you up and abused you-all ways-, you wouldn't be able to kill me. How weak is that?" He sneered up at Crowley, clearly expecting a reaction. He was sorely disappointed.

Crowley smiled, almost like a shark. "Unfortunately, your ideals are as wrong as your parentage. It's not weakness. It's compassion." Crowley smiled coldly. "I miss Mom, you know. And I really wish you didn't do this." Crowley smiled slightly, lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'm sorry, Dad." With a powerful blow to the temple, Crowley's father was knocked out cold.

Halt stepped in, surveying the scene. Near him, Crowley knelt and pulled out his arrows.

________________________________________________________________________________

"Do you regret it?" Halt asked once they had reached Castle Araluen. Crowley looked up, an uncharistically pensive expression on his face.

"I guess I do." Crowley said wryly. "I still wish I hadn't done it. But that twisted part of me feels very happy. It's sort of like a bittersweet candy." He laughed, a hollow, twisting sound.

"How stupid am I, right? Regretting injuring the person who abused me mentally, physically, and sexually? So soft." Crowley slumped, a tear falling from his face. "It's just that...after Mom died, he...changed. I wish it was different, Halt. I wish it had never happened. But life don't do that, does it?" 

Halt looked at his best friend and companion. "Like you said, it's compassion." he said quietly. "There's nothing wrong with it."

Crowley smiled. "Thanks, Halt." he said, leaning against him. 

Knowing that he shouldn't make a sardonic remark, Halt let Crowley rest on him. Just for a moment, though. Then they were Rangers once again.