Disclaimer: Dc owns all of them
"Been wondering when I'd be seeing you again, Michael."
Easy as you please with a combination of his special blend of conceding and indifference. I don't think that once in my whole life he's ever been genuinely happy to see me. I should hate him like mom and Michelle do. I try, I really do. But there's always a part of me that wishes things were different. That maybe there's a slight chance that he'll care at least a little bit. Dad will never change. I know that, I always have at some level yet I still threw it all away for a glimmer of false hope.
"You're the one that wanted to see me, dad."
The reminder doesn't do any good, his face bears a smug message that he's in charge and we both know it. Why? Because he thinks he has all the cards and can spot my bluff a mile away. He may of asked for me to be here but the fact I actually showed up after all he's done speaks loudly to him. One thing that amuses dad equally as much as it disgusts him is the gullible. Which I know I'll always be in his mind. The easy to manipulate are those he steps on to get what he wants. They can't be respected. No one that has trust him is, not me, not mom, only Michelle since she never bought the con. I'm sure I'm viewed as lower than the normal rube for falling for it when I knew damn well what I was walking into.
"Just tell me what you want."
"I would think that would be obvious." He sneers at me like he did when I first asked if I could see him. "I'm in prison Michael, I don't exactly want a fiber weave blanket."
"How about a pack of cigarettes?" Dads' never appreciated my sense of humor and it shows at the twist of his lips. Everybodys' a critic. "I'll even throw in the filtered pack."
"Don't get smart with me boy, get me out of this place." If there were bars instead of an energy force field I think he'd be clutching at them before he gave into his impulses to throttle me. Yeah that would have worked real well.
"You were found cleaning out the Flash museum, you're not exactly innocent." I throw in an eye roll half at the ridiculousness of his demands and half because I know this will piss him off. What can I say, it's in my genes.
"Right, just like your record is clean for theft." It's a sore point and we both know it. He goes for the kill every time. "You're just as crooked as your old man."
The denial is at the tip of my tongue though I know I'm fighting a losing battle. You know what? Why should I try to explain myself to him? He'll never understand any of it. Won't care about the reasons only whatever means he can use to weasel his way out. I won't be used again. "This is stupid. Enjoy you stay dad."
"What was that? Can you speak up son? My hearings' not all that it was." Cupping the area where his left ear used to be gets the desired result of making me feel guilty. I hesitate giving him the opportunity to lure me back with his taunting words. "Face the facts kid, we're the same. I've been man enough to admit what I am a thousand times over. When are you finally going to man up?"
"I know I've messed up. Unlike you, I'm actually trying to better myself." Damn it, I knew I shouldn't have come. I tried not to get pulled into this. "Not that you would understand that. You don't understand anything that doesn't have to do with money. This is why no one's here to bail you out. You're all alone." Not that he cares.
"That rich. And you're not alone, Michael? Don't give me that look. I may not be actively in your life but that doesn't mean that I don't know the highlights. You're the embarrassment of the JLA. You don't have any real friends that check up on you regularly, do you? None of your so-called friends cared when you 'died.' " For once I manage to keep my mouth shut. Another victory for dad. "What's left after that? Family? That idiot ancestor? That girl he's supposed to marry? Are you close to them, Michael? Let's not even get started on your mother and your sister. We know how near and dear you were with them once you 'messed up.' "
I grit my teeth at the memory, hating that I'm so easy to read. I've been able to hide such sore points from those I worked back to back with in the league. People that include mind readers, guys with x-ray vision and a lasso of truth. Yet some one who ran out on me when I was a kid was able to see it all. He's a con man, an expert on peeling away all the layers I've carefully placed over the years with barely any effort.
"All you got is a pet robot, a fake personality that's programed to give a damn about you. And if you think that boss of yours wouldn't gladly throw you to the wolves to save his own ass you're more hopeless than I thought."
I admit there had been times I wondered about the same thing when it came to Skeets. Michelle always said that I was too emotional, that I cared too much for something that wasn't even alive. Rip was harder to define but I knew that deep down despite our past differences he cared. I'm not sure how I knew, I just did.
"He's not like your former 'employers' if that's what you mean. They would have dropped you like they did with their boy Jason if you hadn't had Mr. Mind controlling you. Rips' not like that. Not that I expect you to get any of this. You never did get the concept of people doing things for selfless reasons."
"And you do son?" He chuckled heartily letting his body fall heavily against the wall so he could lean properly. "You can dress it up all you want. Save lives, repeat the same tired cliches of that pathetic era of heroes you live in. Doesn't matter. The truth is that at heart you want the fame, the money and the respect. That's who you really are, Michael. Selfish to the core, too inept to get what you want, not nearly good enough to honestly be called a hero. You're nothing but a joke."
"No, I'm not." I don't mean to speak up as fast as I do. The memory of Bruce telling me that what I do means something replays in my mind, prompted unintentionally by dads' insult. I proved I was more than that. To Batman, to Rip and myself. "The joke is that you think you're in any position to talk down to me."
"Huh, so you finally grew a pair. Convenient that it should happen when you're on the other side this cell." His right side is facing me showing of his prominent scar. One that he got through his endless greed and used to guilt me into throwing my life away. Never again.
"Whatever. It doesn't matter what I say I know you're not going to listen." Without another word I turn my back on him heading back door at the end of the hall where Rip will be waiting. Taken aback from my sudden departure he makes one more attempt to pull me back.
"You're just going to abandon me here to rot in this place, kid?"
"Guess I am your son after all."
I don't break my stride, I don't look back.