- Sun Sep 03, 2017 8:45 pm
At least she seems good for him, Casey thought to himself as he watched Delilah lead his son away and talk to him. He seemed to calm just at her very touch. All those potential years of torture followed by being freed by and cared for by her. Hopefully it somehow made those years worth it to his son since he met her from it. Still, he doubted it would make up for those lost years of his youth spent doing whatever that monster, Williams, deemed necessary or being subjected to whatever that poor excuse for a man, that tyrant, deemed necessary.
Waiting as patiently as he could manage, Casey took a sip of his coffee but nearly spit it out. In all that had followed its delivery, he had forgotten to add sugar and creamer. Black was not his favorite way to have coffee. With hands shaking with nervous anticipation, the man reached out for the glass container that held the sugar and poured a little. He ended up with a little too much, but he didn't seem to let it phase him. Instead, he moved onto adding the creamer, which didn't have quite as bad results considering it was portioned off into small plastic containers he had to open. He was simply relieved he hadn't spilled it.
It was as he was stirring it that Julian's voice caught his attention, and he looked up, the spoon held forgotten in his hand. "Dad, I--...Sorry about that... It wasn't a good time, you know..." Casey nodded, scratching the side of his neck and casting his gaze down momentarily until his son began to speak again. Casey cast his gaze away as Julian admitted he had never found him, that no one had until a few years ago when Delilah had found him. Now he felt like the scum of creation. All his searching would be for naught, but that didn't mean Casey would give up searching. No, he would ask Julian for directions, and he would find him. He would stop his son's torture. He had to.
"Wha--?" Casey began, his voice dry and lacking its usual volume. He took a small sip of his coffee and cleared his throat in hopes of making his throat feel a little less tense. "What...what did he do to you?" he asked. He didn't want to know the answer, honestly. He was afraid to hear what his son had gone through. There were no major scars he could see, but there was still much of his son's body he couldn't see, many places scars telling the tale of his torment could be hidden.