The Bonding Chronicles Ch. 10

"You are growing."

Her eyes grew large, and she sat more straight for several moments, until she deflated and glared into Andrew's nonplussed face.

"Yeah, I am getting more fit, and growing these super sweet muscles," he said with playful confidence, as he flexed his bicep for show.

"No, Andrew. You are hitting a growth spurt. I can feel your body storing some kind of supernatural nutrients, and everything within you is preparing for change. I suspect your body would ache, if not for your magic."

"What am I becoming?" His tone was subdued, and his eyes stared off in disbelief.

"Who you were meant to be."

***** Responsibility *****

William woke in a dark and unfamiliar room. The intermittent beep of his monitor announced each and every beat of his heart, and reminded him of where he was. He looked down, and could see his leg was secured within a thick and heavy cast.

"That little fucker," he grumbled to himself, as he attempted to sit further back into the bed. The sharp pain from his leg stopped him almost as soon as he started.

His attention was drawn by movement to his side as his wife rose from a chair, and rushed towards him. Her worry was evident in her glistening eyes, as she saw the pain on his angry face. He struggled to keep her from grabbing him, pushing her cloying hands away with a sad desperation.

"You just sat there, and let that fucker do this to me."

His wife tried to say something, but he didn't want to hear it. That little fucker would pay for what he had done. William was still fighting his wife away from him, when he finally lost his temper.

"Get away from me, you bitch!" his voice was loud and desperate.

His wife tried to comfort him, and he continued to knock her hands away, while he scanned the room, looking for any sign of his traitor of a son.

"I said, fuck off! You made your choice, bitch!" his screaming voice had drawn the attention of the nursing staff, who came into the room. Two male nurses pulled his wife away from him, and glowered at the large man, while they escorted her out of the room.

"It's probably best if you wait outside, Mrs. Hathaway. Your husband experienced a pretty significant fall, and is still under the influence of the medication used during surgery."

Her crying voice could be heard as she was forced to leave the room. Despite everything she had been through, she still held the hope that they could be family.

William cursed under his breath, and just as the last nurse was leaving the room, he yelled out, "I want the cops! I want to file charges!"

He rested back into his pillow, staring at the ceiling, as he decided what he wanted to say. A cool breeze blew across the bed, and drove a shiver through his body. William glanced to the open window, and mumbled, "Fucking lazy bitch," as he turned his attention back to the ceiling.

While he was settling on exactly how he would blame the attack on his son, he was further frustrated by what sounded like the swish of cloth, followed by another powerful, cool gust of wind. He shook his head, and grumbled to himself in impotent frustration.

Looking towards the window with a glower, his breath caught in his throat. A tall and muscular woman stood across the room, framed by the large window. She was almost six feet tall, and a latticework of scars crisscrossed her naked body. He thought she might have been beautiful, if not for the network of long slashing wounds which had left her disfigured. Her A-cup breasts and pubic mound seemed to have taken the most punishment, and had been left barely recognizable by their abuse.

Her short, spiky blonde hair framed her most captivating feature — her radiant sky-blue eyes. William was transfixed by her glowing gaze, and as she moved towards him, he felt a deep sense of peace settle upon him. Part of him wanted to cry out and flee, but a commanding and penetrating voice assured him that everything would be all right. He was safe, the voice assured him, and soon he would be home with a wife that loved him, and a son that respected him.

She reached the side of his bed, and caressed the short brown hair out of his face, while the voice soothed his worries. Soon his vision faded, as he drifted off into darkness.

He was back in high school. The football field was alive, and the cheers of the crowd swelled, fuelling his arm into making the perfect throw. He looked into the sea of spectators, and found his girlfriend screaming her joy into the air. He didn't know it then, but she was pregnant, and he felt the love and optimism he had for their life in that moment.

The throw was perfect, and they got the touchdown to win the game. The joy he felt in that moment was only surpassed by the birth of his son.

Time seemed to fast-forward, and his stomach dropped at the sight before him. The trailer office that his construction company had used for years was ablaze, and the large office complex that they had been working on was crumbling down behind it — the result of a scheme by his old partner to try and get the insurance money for his half of the company.

He never should have gone into business with that idiot, he knew that now. His partner never paid attention to the details, and was caught by the fire department before being convicted for arson. Every dollar he had was tied up in that development, and without the insurance money, he was ruined. Tears rolled down his cheek, as he watched the complex come crashing down.

Time sped by again, and now he was working for another contractor. Why take the risks, when you could lose everything so fast? The guy he worked for had no sense, and undervalued his employees.

It felt strange to William, to be watching the scene in third person. He looked at his younger self, and admired how fit he had been. There was still a glimmer of hope in his eyes, a glimmer that faded ever so slightly under the barrage of insults and excuses that his boss was throwing at him. The guy had over-promised on a remodel, and it was William's turn to take the blame. "What an asshole," William thought, as he watched the rotund man slobber his way through his angry rant.

He had quit that day. William just couldn't take working for assholes like that anymore. While he watched the scene before him, he was reminded of why he could never quite bring himself to look for another job.

Time moved forward, and William was forced to watch as the next several years passed by. He spent the majority of that time seated in his chair, growing larger while he grew bitter. He could see it as the years passed by, the light in his eyes growing darker, until the only thing that remained was the bitter seed of anger and hatred that masked his disappointment at how his life had turned out.

Time slowed, and Junior was towering above him. He looked pathetic and beaten on the floor, thoroughly shamed by his son. The boy was already mid-rant, and the words seemed to come from a fresh perspective.

"You protect the people you love, and fuck what other people think about it."

Everything seemed to slow, while those words hung in his mind. He was forced to consider them, and recognize the wisdom contained within.

"Is that what you have done?" the deep and commanding female voice asked. It seemed to have no source, and while he looked around the room, which was frozen in time, he failed to see her anywhere. "Life is a precious gift, and what have you done with yours?"

"I tried, but it was taken from me."

The scene changed, and he was again looking at the burning office building that had ruined his life.

"Who said everything would be perfect?" the voice sounded patronizing in its tone.

"How do you recover from something like that? I was ruined, no one would hire me to build a shithouse after that fiasco!" his voice was angry, as he glowered out over the flames of his career.

"What, like this?" the voice asked.

The scene changed, and William was looking at his old partner, who was seated behind a desk, and wore a pleasant smile upon his face. He was still short and skinny, but he had lost most of his hair due to the passage of time. William looked around the large office, and could see a massive bookshelf filled with books, and a few degrees hanging from the wall behind his desk.

"Holy shit, he got a degree in advertising?" William wondered aloud, as he inspected one of the certificates.

"Somehow, you have sentenced yourself to a harsher punishment than the man who committed the crime. You think you are the first person who had to overcome hardship."

"It must have been nice, having all that time in prison to better himself," William called out dismissively.

The scene changed, and William was forced to endure the five long years of beatings, rape, and fear that had consumed his old partner's life in prison. Through that time, the short man had occupied the few moments of peace with trying to improve himself, and worked against the system, so that he could further his education. His family had abandoned him, and his friends would not speak to him. He had worked hard against every obstacle, to exit prison and never go back.

"You are not special. Perhaps, that is the lesson you have lacked. Your family can still be saved, but it's up to you to stop making excuses and take responsibility for your failures."

Every moment through the last several years where he had blamed his wife and child for his own insecurity flashed before him. He could feel their anguish, along with his own resentment or jealousy. Everything they did, whether good or bad, had caused him to lash out, and as he felt their pain, their sense of betrayal, he began to weep. How had he allowed himself to become like this?

He saw himself, standing in the center of the football field, the game winning ball suspended within the air, travelling towards history. He wanted to call out, and warn himself about how he would change. How he would stop taking chances, and would instead find security in the control he had over those he claimed to love.

While he did not have a body, he felt like he had dropped to his knees in anguish, consumed by turmoil over the suffering he had subjected his family to, and the knowledge that they deserved so much better.

He opened his eyes, and saw that the hospital room was empty. The curtains on both sides of the wide open window shifting in a cool late summer breeze. His face was wet from his tears, and he again broke down at the realization of who he was.

"Excuse me, Mr. Hathaway. I understand you want to press charges against someone?"

The voice had come from a police officer, who was standing in the doorway. He held a notepad and pencil at the ready, while he waited for a response.

William wiped his eyes dry, and choked as he tried to speak. After a few moments, he calmed enough to say, "That's right, officer."

The policeman perked up, eager to have something to do. "Who do you want to charge?"

William sighed, and knew he had to take this step. "Myself."

The officer was stunned by this statement, his pencil refusing to move, as he struggled to comprehend what had just been said.

"I've been beating my family for years, and I need help to stop."