A thirst for revenge.
Was there really a right reaction to finding out that someone had ultimately been responsible for the death of your child? Could anyone really say what the right process of dealing with that was?
If there was a 'right' way for any of that, Michael couldn't care less about it. In fact, at the moment there was very little that he cared much about because all his mind kept concentrating on was his conversation with Lauren and what he had found out. Jack had sent someone after Lauren and they had hurt her. They had made her go into early labor with whatever they had done to her, Aidan had been born prematurely, and...
Whenever there was a brief moment when all the rage that he was feeling suddenly died down, a grief so strong and overwhelming threatened to take over him. Someone had killed his son, he hadn't just passed away because he had decided to come sooner than what they had been expecting. Hadn't that been what he had always told himself, how Aidan had just set his own schedule without caring that he wasn't ready to be born yet? God, he felt so stupid for believing that; for not seeing it sooner. He should have known that Lauren wasn't telling him the whole truth when he had arrived at the hospital to see her. He should have known. He should have protected them, he should have saved him.
The intensity of all that he was feeling - all that anger and all that grief clashing together at once - made him feel sick but there was nothing left in his stomach to get sick from. He didn't know how long he had been back in his apartment for, trying to digest the news, but it didn't matter. He didn't care about that, either. Maybe going through this, feeling everything that he was feeling, was another punishment because apparently losing Aidan hadn't been enough. Losing Aidan had been punishment for the life had belonged to, and this new Hell that he was going through was for not being the father he should have been. This was what he got for leaving Lauren and Aidan, even if deep down he had known that he shouldn't have.
"It's just going to be this last favor, Beck," he remembered Jack saying after he had given him the job. "You just go to LA and take care of some business for me. When you get back you'll be a free man. I promise you that."
As fast as the grief had started to settle in, the anger that hadn't been too far behind rushed forth and took over him once more. His vision seemed to narrow, trying to find something - anything - to destroy and without fully realizing it he picked up the bottle of vodka he had just taken out of the cabinet and lunged it across the room. Usually doing something like that would help to give him at least a small sense of relief, as if he had somehow let out some of the anger that was eating him alive from the inside, but this time nothing happened. If anything, everything that he was feeling seemed to double and swallowed him whole. What he wanted to annihilate wasn't in this room. It wasn't in his apartment, and who knew if it was even in New York at all anymore.
Jack. He wanted to find Jack and tear him apart. He wanted to kill him. He wanted to shoot him, he wanted to just destroy him with his bare hands. If before he hadn't cared about ending someone's life, this time there was no doubt in his mind about whether or not he'd regret it. He wanted to find him. He needed to find him before Damian could, because he already knew that if Damian or Stephen caught him then Jack would just be locked up. But that fate seemed too merciful for Jack, and if Michael had his way then Jack wouldn't even make it to seeing Damian again. He wouldn't make it to seeing Stephen, or hearing his rights as Stephen clasped the handcuffs on his wrists. No, he wouldn't let it get that far. Jack wouldn't live that long because Michael was going to find him. He didn't know how, and he had no idea where to even start looking, but he'd find him and he'd make Jack regret ever even hiring him in the first place.
Jack had wanted Michael to put his anger for the injustice of losing his son to good use? Then that would be exactly what he'd do. No one should ever have to see their child die while all they can do is watch. No one should ever have to bury a baby that was barely five days old and that hadn't been at fault for all the screw-ups his father had done. No one should ever have to feel everything that he was feeling; all that helplessness, all that anger, all that grief.
If Jack had been expecting Michael to become a heartless bastard that wouldn't think twice before killing someone, then that would be exactly what Jack would get. He'd use that anger, that overpowering rage that kept flowing through him, to put Jack out of his goddamn misery no matter what price he had to pay.
If there was a 'right' way for any of that, Michael couldn't care less about it. In fact, at the moment there was very little that he cared much about because all his mind kept concentrating on was his conversation with Lauren and what he had found out. Jack had sent someone after Lauren and they had hurt her. They had made her go into early labor with whatever they had done to her, Aidan had been born prematurely, and...
Whenever there was a brief moment when all the rage that he was feeling suddenly died down, a grief so strong and overwhelming threatened to take over him. Someone had killed his son, he hadn't just passed away because he had decided to come sooner than what they had been expecting. Hadn't that been what he had always told himself, how Aidan had just set his own schedule without caring that he wasn't ready to be born yet? God, he felt so stupid for believing that; for not seeing it sooner. He should have known that Lauren wasn't telling him the whole truth when he had arrived at the hospital to see her. He should have known. He should have protected them, he should have saved him.
The intensity of all that he was feeling - all that anger and all that grief clashing together at once - made him feel sick but there was nothing left in his stomach to get sick from. He didn't know how long he had been back in his apartment for, trying to digest the news, but it didn't matter. He didn't care about that, either. Maybe going through this, feeling everything that he was feeling, was another punishment because apparently losing Aidan hadn't been enough. Losing Aidan had been punishment for the life had belonged to, and this new Hell that he was going through was for not being the father he should have been. This was what he got for leaving Lauren and Aidan, even if deep down he had known that he shouldn't have.
"It's just going to be this last favor, Beck," he remembered Jack saying after he had given him the job. "You just go to LA and take care of some business for me. When you get back you'll be a free man. I promise you that."
As fast as the grief had started to settle in, the anger that hadn't been too far behind rushed forth and took over him once more. His vision seemed to narrow, trying to find something - anything - to destroy and without fully realizing it he picked up the bottle of vodka he had just taken out of the cabinet and lunged it across the room. Usually doing something like that would help to give him at least a small sense of relief, as if he had somehow let out some of the anger that was eating him alive from the inside, but this time nothing happened. If anything, everything that he was feeling seemed to double and swallowed him whole. What he wanted to annihilate wasn't in this room. It wasn't in his apartment, and who knew if it was even in New York at all anymore.
Jack. He wanted to find Jack and tear him apart. He wanted to kill him. He wanted to shoot him, he wanted to just destroy him with his bare hands. If before he hadn't cared about ending someone's life, this time there was no doubt in his mind about whether or not he'd regret it. He wanted to find him. He needed to find him before Damian could, because he already knew that if Damian or Stephen caught him then Jack would just be locked up. But that fate seemed too merciful for Jack, and if Michael had his way then Jack wouldn't even make it to seeing Damian again. He wouldn't make it to seeing Stephen, or hearing his rights as Stephen clasped the handcuffs on his wrists. No, he wouldn't let it get that far. Jack wouldn't live that long because Michael was going to find him. He didn't know how, and he had no idea where to even start looking, but he'd find him and he'd make Jack regret ever even hiring him in the first place.
Jack had wanted Michael to put his anger for the injustice of losing his son to good use? Then that would be exactly what he'd do. No one should ever have to see their child die while all they can do is watch. No one should ever have to bury a baby that was barely five days old and that hadn't been at fault for all the screw-ups his father had done. No one should ever have to feel everything that he was feeling; all that helplessness, all that anger, all that grief.
If Jack had been expecting Michael to become a heartless bastard that wouldn't think twice before killing someone, then that would be exactly what Jack would get. He'd use that anger, that overpowering rage that kept flowing through him, to put Jack out of his goddamn misery no matter what price he had to pay.