When You're a Father, You'll Understand

Quirin saw red.
Red, blossoming across the white shirt his son was wearing.
Red, as a rage he hadn't felt in over twenty-five years broke free from the carefully-constructed prison of control Quirin had built for it and flooded his vision.
Red, shimmering on the tip of his sword in the pale moonlight.

Quirin has always been protective of his son. He may have made mistakes in the past, but now he is determined to be what his son needs. And sometimes that means being a warrior.

Originally posted on AO3