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Father dearest

Summary:

A second part of my other fic, 'father' you should read the first part to understand most of this fic and series

He got up and went to the yard, seeing a few of the older children watching over a few of the younger children. 2 of the youngest rush to him, Dorothy and Willow, who seemed rather excited. The 9 year old boy, Willow clinged to father‘s, Tommy‘s suit sleeve. ”father, big brother shroud and Clementine said that you founded a country, Is that true?“ 

Work Text:

Father sat on his chair, looking over some paperwork he was given. He quietly clicked his pens on and on. He signed off the last piece of the paper and put it in its folder, then in a drawer. 

He got up and went to the yard, seeing a few of the older children watching over a few of the younger children. 2 of the youngest rush to him, Dorothy and Willow, who seemed rather excited. The 9 year old boy, Willow clinged to father‘s, Tommy‘s suit sleeve. ”father, big brother shroud and Clementine said that you founded a country, Is that true?“ 

Tommy looked at him and Dorothy both having star eyes while Clementine and his brother, shroud, were chuckling slightly a bit further away, watching the other few children outside. 

Father crouched down to be in the same eye level, his icy gaze turning soft as he saw the young sheep hybrid, he placed his hand on the young boy‘s shoulder. Tommy‘s own horns on his head grew slightly  in fondness as he saw Dorothy and Willow smiling happily. 

”they are correct, dear Willow. Tho it‘s been many years since I have thought of those dark times“ 
Dorothy looked over, her toothy grin that had a missing tooth contorted into a small confused grin ”dark times, father what do you mean by that?“ the little British girl seemed very confused as Willow seemed to be as well. 

”when I was younger a lot of things had happened, yes I did create a nation with people, but it didn‘t last. Everything went up to flames like a magnificent fire that burns down everything“ the two were like always a bit disappointed that father had like always left out most of the details and being cryptic, but they were at least content to be answered with a yes. 

”Oki doki father, come on Dorothy let‘s go“ Willow pulled Dorothy by her hand to go to the swings. Dorothy followed the goat her own bat wings flapping happily. Soon Tommy turned to Clementine and shroud and walking over to them

”shroud, Clementine“ the two 14 year olds looked at him, shroud knowing he was in trouble while Clementine just seemed a bit guilty ”father, please don‘t be mad at me and my brother, we only wanted to answer Dorothy‘s and Willow‘s questions. And the two are stubborn, they wouldn‘t leave us alone if we didn‘t tell“

Tommy sighed but nodded ”I‘m disappointed in you two for breaking so fast, I thought you better than giving up so easily, what happens if we are attacked? What will happen then? Anyhow the only punishment I am giving you two the dish washing duty“

The teens sighed in relief at not being placed on the baby duty this time, father turned around and went inside the home, knowing that the two will gather the children outside soon enough. As rain fall is not so far from the horizon. 

He walked to his office and looked at the map that was on the wall, pins and needles were in certain locations. He looked over at the spot of the great Essempii, he knew that both drista and XD took over after sealing dream in the prison. 

But both of the gods knew that dream will break out soon enough and Tommy will be needed to be called back to whatever shit hole the Essempii became. To exterminate a pest. Tommy can‘t wait to see that day, but he is patient. 

Not like before being impatient, loud and a ticking bomb, but now he is water. He can be cold calm or warm or a boiling rage of hot existence. But he will be patient for his revenge. He will be patient to rip out dream's heart and to slit his throat, to kill him in cold blood same as he did to him. 

He can and will be patient for his gods that blessed him to call to finally hurt dream like he hurt him. 

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