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Sau Paulo. Evening.

_ _

Soldiers lived to serve. That was what he'd been told long ago by someone who only ever had done the bidding of others, never asking for anything. Serve...The word left a strange aftertaste in his mouth almost. Yet for the life of him he couldn't figure out if it tasted badly or not, just like with most things in his life. He had always been indecisive the 25 year old panther thought warily as he efficiently navigated the hallways of the high-rise hotel. If he hated anything about himself it was that the most.

He didn't pay much attention to anything or anyone passing him beside the numbers on the white painted doors. The stares other passersby greeted him with were nothing new at all, and therefor easily ignored. However that didn't mean that he was oblivious of it. It was easy to recognize what drew attention to him; he was tall and with a body powerfully built like a chiseled statue of muscle he guessed the easiest word to describe him would be 'manly'. Or that was at least what those that hit on him said on many occasions--when he'd dared to risk frolicking with others that was, which wasn't often. The bulky feline shifted the strap of the military bag resting over one of his broad shoulders to relive the pressure on some numbed nerves.

"Room number 69." Troy repeated softly to himself as his blue eyes scanned each door he passed with the efficiency of a sniper. Once his eyes had caught what he was looking for he briskly strolled his way up to the door and rapped trice on it with the back of a hand.

A deep voice could be heard from the other side, biding him to enter.

"Come on in."

He better not be sitting and smokin'.

Troy pushed the door handle and went in. The Spanish evening sun beamed through sheer curtains and leaped off of the gilded bedspread. He raised an arm in a crisp, sharp, salute at the man standing by the window.

The older panther leaned against the windowsill merely nodded once at the greeting, before taking a breath from the cigar in his mouth, letting it out in a puff of grey smoke and turned around to loosen and then let the blinds fall into place; obscuring the dwindling light with a flick of his powerful wrist. He was at least half-a head taller than Troy himself, equally powerfully built; the original mold that Troy had been shaped from. The old man looked like 30 rather than 54. Age seemed to have a hard time to leave its mark on the Sergeant.

Troy eyed the right corner of his father's muzzle with open disapproval. He let the bag slip from his shoulder to thud to the hardwood floor. It wasn't his priority at the moment. He crossed his arms over his broad chest. He cocked his head to the side with a frown.

The panther by the window narrowed his dark eyes. He held up a finger. "Don't start, Troy." He said in a deep baritone. He took another smoke from his cigar, held it, before letting it go. It rolled over straight into Troy's face like a grey swarm of bees. He waved it away impatiently.

"I thought we agreed that you'd stop smoking?"

"I also thought we'd agreed that there was no need for saluting while in private. I'm not in my uniform." The elder of the two said with a flippant gesture with the hand that now held his cigar. It made Troy realize that his father was standing there in nothing but his military pants, shirtless torso showing of the defined, toned musculature. His face quickly grew hot and he looked away before he was noticed. When he finally had collected composure enough to look at his sire he saw that his father gazed at him with a thoughtful look on his face. His father Cassius were almost a reflection of himself, only a scar going in a pale slant over the bridge of his nose and the fact that Cassius had black, intense eyes whereas Troy's were a violet blue set them apart.

Sometimes when he was alone in the dark of night and his mind delved into places that he'd rather leave alone, truths that he'd rather never face he was confronted with the fact that none alive knew him better than his old man. In a way it was both good and sad at the same time.

"Still prone to spacing out, I see." His father's voice tore him from his quiet contemplation and back into reality. He followed the man's every move as he made his way to the low table and rested his cigar on the ashtray, a tail of smoke curled from it smoldering tip as if from a tiny chimney.

"Haven't seen you for a year and you have nothing to talk about?" Troy's father said as he straightened up and curled his thick arms behind him in a classic military posture. It made Troy scratched behind his neck, wracking his brain for something to say. He hadn't felt so awkward in a long time, not since his father had told him how sex worked when he'd been 15. He moved his gaze up, not realizing that he'd even lowered it to begin with, and flinched when he found his father's massive form abruptly close; almost nose to nose with him. Each heavy, smoke-scented breath made his whiskers tremble. Troy swallowed slowly, more self-conscious then he'd ever been before.

"Old man, I--"

His dad let out a grunt, jerked him closer by a large palm against the back of his head, fingers pressing firmly against his skull, mouth crashing against his as if the other man wanted to devour him. Troy stiffened eyes going wide against the sudden onslaught that crashed over him. The unrestricted touch took him aback. He quickly responded however with as much eagerness as he was given.

Through his whole life his father had thought him discipline, being a life-long military man it must had come easy to him. He also thought him how to be selfless; the smart kind, as well as strong in both body and soul.

Despite all that his father now radiated impatience almost palpable; so unlike him that it was shocking. Troy pulled his tingling mouth away to let out a gasp when he felt a hand squeeze roughly at one of his beefy, toned ass cheeks. The old man had never been anything but bold...

"I uh...need to take a shower." He could already feel the other's hard bulge press against him. He got an-almost glower from the older feline.

"Don't tease me, boy."

Troy felt a shiver followed by goosebumps rush through him at the blatant; lustful gravely tone which brought his father's voice into darker rougher territories. It caused him to swallow once more; trying in vain to do something about his all-to suddenly parched throat.

"No teasing, I really need to shower." Troy said, clarifying as he backed away slowly, turned around and started to make for the suit's bathroom door while taping the urge to throw a cautious look over his shoulder. He quietly reminded himself that he wasn't in a battle zone, though if his father and he were left in the room until dawn it would no doubt look like one.

Troy reached behind to grab onto the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head, discarding it on the floor followed quickly by his pants and boxers. He stepped through the glass doors and activated the shower, silently wondering if his father had some ulterior motives for choosing this particular hotel...Neither of them were accustomed to anything but the bare essentials. It seemed strange to him to start to care about such things now, years after he'd stopped caring about it. It made him aware that perhaps he didn't know his father as good as he thought he had.

The water jetting out of the shower head massaged away the ache of a long day spent mostly in a flight's chair. The young mercenary let out a pleased hum as the water slowly loosened the tension in his broad shoulders before continuing its sublime journey over his sculpted pectorals, abs and then further down hips, thighs and calves.

He was busy with soaping himself up when he felt more then heard the foggy water-spattered doors open behind him, unalarmed he simply continued to roam his arms over his chest and stomach, eyes closed but ears instinctively attentive and perked.

Despite knowing without a doubt what would happen next, a part of him was perpetually surprised no matter how many times they had done this, of how easy the touch came to him. Large paws: calloused from years of training with guns and knives and many other weapons gently but firmly caressed his hips before sliding slowly up his sides, fingers splayed as they journeyed up towards his rippling pectorals...

"Oooh, fuck..." Troy couldn't keep the groan from escaping him as his father started to gently toy and play with his nipples, all the while rolling a full-mast erection along the crack of his muscular buttocks. Tiny sparks of pleasure shot into him as the carnal contact made him lean more fully against the hard, well-defined body.

Their breathing started to quicken as they fell into a languid rhythm of rocking into each other, groans and grunts and half-whispered encouragements slowly starting to rise to the smoky ceiling. It soon became clear to Troy that if the continued at the pace they were going they wouldn't manage to reach the bed, as if on to confirm what he already knew he heard his father muster into his neck between hard breaths.

"So fucking hot..."

Troy reached back with a hand to reel the veteran in by a squeeze at a carved thigh, and felt how the hard length pressed against him twitched and throbbed in response to the simple touch. It made him wonder just how pent up the older man really was. Had he been with no-one for a year? His train of thought was halted by the feeling of large paws grasping hold of his hips, and he knew that if the harsh panting washing over his neck in deep gusts were to be believed, his dad couldn't last much longer.

"Why don't we this in the bedroom, eh?" He said with a look over his shoulder. His dad gave a snort before stepping back slowly, reluctance shimmering beneath the steady movements. Troy watched as his father jerked his head towards the shower doors.

"Get going, and if you don't hurry, I'll fuck your ass right against the damn wall."

Troy actually considered it for a second before deciding that the bed was the more comfortable option of the two, and having made the decision, he stepped under the spray to quickly and efficiently rinse himself free of soap.

When he is coat was well and truly clean he turned off the shower, grabbed a towel from its place at the wall, fried himself with a few precise swipes of the cotton, all the while aware of his older, panting companion, before he exited the shower briskly, his father right on his heels.

As they made their way into the cool bedroom, Troy stopped at the sudden sensation of his father's hand on his shoulder. He did an about face only to be met with his father's hot muzzle insistently meeting his own once more. This time there was none of the hesitation from before, and Troy kissed him deeply, tongues starting to slide together while large paws squeezed and groped over thick, large firm muscles with a one year-fueled abandonment. They broke the kiss, both panting as if having run miles without stopping. Troy's father gently but firmly pushed him to his knees before him, and Troy found himself faced with the twitching length again; it was still hard; jutting out from his dad's midsection like a spear almost. He curled his hand around the thick, warmth of it and started to pump up and down.

"Oh fuck yeah...Yeah, that's it. F-Faster..." His father said between low moans and groans, head falling back as he twitched in tandem in Troy's skilled paw. Precum was watering from the swollen head, running down and over the younger male's working fingers, helping to lubricate and increase the friction. It must have felt really good because Cassius gave a hard grunt, claws actually popping out before sinking back in for a few seconds.

Troy silently marveled at the reactions: His father had always been so composed to the point where even their lovemaking had had a certain sense of stoicism from his father's side. That he was so open in his reactions to what Troy was providing him with spoke volumes of just how badly he needed it. Troy leaned forward more into his father's personal space, hands coming to rest on those impressive thighs.

If you like that you'll love this old man. He thought as he rasped his tongue on the underside of his sire's length, feeling of the body underneath his palms tensed abruptly before a tremble shuddered through it.

"Fuck--Oh yeah!" His father grunted out and Troy could feel how a firm touch rested on the top of his head, it started to guide his head back and forth over the tense shaft sliding against his rough tongue. His blue eyes fell closed in concentration as his father started to rock his hips against his head, picking up speed and making wet slurps fill the silence of the room. He opened his eyes when he felt a thumb lightly pull on the skin between his eyes.

It made Troy immodestly turn his eyes up and meet his father's sweltering black gaze; burning like hot coals in his ash-colored face. Sweat had started to bead on his forehead Troy realized dimly as he continued to suck and slurp on the swelling cock in his mouth, never once looking away. His father's gaze was equally unwavering, despite how his muscles visibly twitched with jolts of pleasure. A thin sheen of perspiration had formed over his shoulders and chest that made him look like a damp Grecian statute carved from a dark river rock. It made Troy let out a quiet groan of his own--a jolt of excitement shooting through his own half-forgotten cock as his father gave a few low words of encouragement.

"That's it...Work that tongue... feels great..."

Whether from an almost lust-buried signal in his own body or because of his father's muttered but obvious enjoyment, Troy pulled away from the shaft. He sat back on his hunches, momentarily admiring his work as the shaft fairly shone wet with spit and precum before he rose up and stepped forward to wrap and arm around his father's neck and this time jerk him into another tongue-filled kiss. Sparks shot though his body, mouth sensitive from giving pleasure, and he gave a muffled moan against the other's muzzle when he felt how his father grasped hold of his lower back with one hand to help steady him when his knees buckled. Their teeth clicked together as a year of bottled up passion was finally let lose, growls starting to rumble in their throats, ebbing up and down like the rive Nile.

As they finally pulled back for air Troy heard his father speak over the rush of blood in his ears. "Get on the bed, soldier." His words were reinforced by a clap to one of his son's ass cheeks. In a daze he made his way over to the bed, like his dad the only thing on his person were his dog tags. They jingled like carol bells as he bent of the bed, hands splaying out over the satin covers. A few heartbeats later he felt once again those hands grasp hold of his hips. He took a deep breath before letting it out slowly.

He tensed slightly as his nether cheeks were spread. Troy groaned as his father spit against his hole; lubricating it and making him ready. The younger soldier shifted his legs apart to gain a steadier position and leaned the weight of his upper body onto the side of his arms.

The caress over his rump was surprisingly tender and feather-light; almost ticklish. Troy's ears swirled on his head as he heard his father's voice above him once more now rumpling with a deep purr.

"Aren't you forgetting something, kid?" A slow firm caress over his buttocks leaving trails of fire in its wake. Troy felt how his father leaned over him. "Raise that tail, boy. Present yourself to me." He didn't need to say it twice. Troy hiked his tail over his toned back. In his peripheral vision he could make out his father's bulging arms resting on either side of him like ash-black trees.

Next thing he was aware of was his father pressing the tip of his shaft against his entrance, waiting for the usual signal. He didn't have to wait long at all for it to come.

A slight nudge, so small he might not notice it Troy thought even as his dad slid himself inside. If he was more eager than usual Troy couldn't read it in his movements at least. He tensed, fingers curling into the sheets as his father finally hilted himself inside of him. He was bigger than most, not monstrous or unnaturally but he was without a doubt well-endowed, and thick.

Troy's eyes narrowed slightly, a strained cough trapped in his throat as his father pressed deeper still. He took another calming breath as he felt how his muscles trembled around the length buried inside him.

Just as he was breathing out his father pulled back more than half of his length before sliding back, making the younger panther tense and shiver, hot and cold flashes washing over him along with goosebumps. His father grunted before abruptly pulling back and slamming inside.

Heat welled through his belly as he turned his head to the side, panting. His old man was straitening up and fingers digging into his shoulder, forcing him up and onto all fours, dog tags rattling like chains as he started to pound Troy's ass with an almost animal-like relinquishment. His father's face was strained; he was grimacing in pleasure, teeth clenched and visibly bared, face red with a blush and glowing with sweat that was starting to roll down his thick shoulders and further down that gorgeous body.

The sight of it all was enough to send Troy into a quiet burning frenzy, hand curling around his own dripping cock as he started to quickly jerk himself off. His father must've noticed because he grunted and increased his pace, one hand coming to grab a fistful of ass while the other placed itself flat against the small of Troy's back, slick with sweat.

The bed was now rocking and slamming against the wall, metal feathers squeaking and creaking from the violent fucking it had to endure from two large, breeding felines. The sound of his father's hips rapidly clapping into Troy's ass were the only noise along with his owns low groans that filled his ears, the room otherwise quiet save for the sound of their rough fucking.

The juvenile panther had long since giving up on jerking himself off to the release he so now desperately craved and was instead occupied by trying to match his sire's pounding pace as he fucked him into submission. The tension in his lower body was mounting, an ever-rising inevitable wave that he longed for to engulf him.

"Ah, fuck! More!" Troy cried out, voice ragged as his old man's cock pummeled into his prostate. He could feel the beginning of climax starting its tingling journey from his fingertips drawing it closer and closer. It wouldn't be long now.

The friction of his dad's member trusting in and out, balls slapping against Troy's own pair had gone from wonderful and exalting into straining and to the point of almost too much sensation altogether. Sensation rolled through his muscles like liquid fire, the edge rising only to fall away as it grew close to cresting and bring him release.

Troy's eyes started to water from frustration he realized was his father's doing. The old man had decided to tease him, maybe as punishment for being silent for a year or for unintentionally teasing him, it obliviously didn't matter to the man but Troy was nearing his wits' end.

He clawed at the bedsheets as he let out a frustrated scream.

"Please!"

He gritted his teeth when his father gave a deep, breathless chuckle but didn't increase his pistoning to the point where he knew it would be enough grant his son what he wanted, nor would he let Troy help himself reach it, as he gripped his son's hip to keep him from rocking too much into his clapping thrusts.

It almost became torture; his balls felt as if they would explode any second from the tingling pressure buzzing in his groin. His father grabbed his hips in both hands and pulled his ass up higher, groaning that it felt amazing inside of him, that he was so hot and tight. It only made Troy groan out a swearword.

"Fuck...You!" He panted; looking over his shoulder, body shaking like one of those fake rodeo bull machines from the old man's sweaty hips rocking into him loudly. His father merely smirked right back at him, drops of sweat running down his face. "When you're ready I'll let you claim me." He said, panting before squeezing his eyes shut, hips suddenly slamming harder and faster than before.

"Oh, fuck yeah boy! I'm so fucking close...!" He groaned as Troy let out strangled grunt, and took the opportunity to start slamming his hips back into his father, who by now was too close to cumming to care to stop him.

"Gonna...Fuck...I think I'm gonna..."

His father grunted, face starting to contort.

The last few second before their orgasms hit and swept their consciousness away into oblivion, nothing else was said between them. As one they raised up the cliff desperately, needing the release they knew so far could only be achieved by being with each other.

As Troy felt a slight stutter in movement and how his father dug his fingers into the flesh of his ass he knew it was finally coming: the release he so desperately had craved all night. As his father continued to fuck his ass, he felt the first warning swells finally inside him before the thick gush of liquid heat started to fill him. His father was still thrusted through it all, howling at the top of his lungs.

He would have told his father not be so loud, the distant roar in his ears barely audible through the white noise of his own blood. But he was too lost in his own orgasm as stars burst behind his eyes in blast of blackness and coruscating white. His knees buckled as heat tore through him along with the sharp visceral contractions in his belly and shaft. He shot his load all over the sheets between his legs before collapsing onto his belly. A final shudder went through him as his father pulled out with a breathless groan.

"Fucking hell...Not bad."

---

"Move over! You're on my side." Troy said irritably as he elbowed his father slightly in the side that'd rolled over on his side. The older male grunted and shifted away ever so little. Troy huffed and crossed his arms. His frown dropped as soon as a bottle of beer was dangled under his nose. His muzzle quirked into a small smile as he snagged it from the hand holding it. His father let out an hmph as he dragged himself up to lean his broad back against the headboard of the bed. The scents of their earlier activities still hung in the air, like salt water after a storm at sea.

"You're easy to please." He said almost admonishingly as he flicked open his own can of beer with a hiss. He glanced sideways before holding his beer out. "Cheers." He said simply.

Troy hesitated a moment longer than he'd wanted before he finally brought his own beer to thud dully against his father's in a toast. He shifted slightly, ass very much sore from the feral pounding he'd taken. It had been a while since he got to have a good fuck like that; hadn't realized just how much he'd needed it. He let out a quiet hiss of pain as his fidgeting send a pang through his bruised rear end.

As he tried to rearrange himself while at the same time trying to figure out which position would be best for his bum he found his father openly regarding him. He looked smug.

"Quit looking so self-satisfied, old goat..." Troy said, muttering while feeling his face grow hot. He took sip of his cold beer while waiting for the smug comeback he knew would come.

"I missed you."

Troy choked on his beer and gave a strange sound like something caught between a gasp and cough. Had he heard that right? Had his old man missed him?

While he guessed that it wasn't so strange for a father to miss his child it certainly was strange to hear him say it out loud. His father wasn't a man who was overly fond of words. He only spoke when he had something to say.

Everything suddenly made sense. The suit. The amount of self-control he'd shown prior to getting into bed with him. The kissing.

Neither of them was much for making out. His father didn't like it, and all Troy knew was that it had something to do with the scar on his face. Perhaps the incident when he'd acquired it had been a potentially embarrassing escapade with the wrong person. He hadn't asked for any details regarding it, he could see that it was one of those things about his father one just didn't ask about. And he didn't like it because out of more than half the people he'd kissed (which weren't many to begin with.) always tasted and smelled, really, really bad.

He felt a lump form in his throat and for a while didn't know what to say; didn't know what his father expected or wanted to hear from him. He took another mouthful of his beer while once again racking his brain for the answer until he found the answer right there in front of him.

"I missed you too old man..." He muttered quietly, words barely above a whisper. He looked away quickly as the old geezer looked at him.

"What did you say?"

"Damn it! Do you need a hearing device? I said 'I missed you too!'" Troy said, biting out the words between his teeth, face once again blazing red.

They stared at each other, unspoken words traveling like spaceships on an astral sea through the space between their eyes. For a while they sat like that--simply watching each other.

Troy's father cleared his throat first, a light red haze setting over his cheeks. He scratched behind his neck. His face lit up as if he remembered something important. He lightly tapped Troy on the shoulder, rousing him from another train of thought.

"Go over to my bag and open it."

Troy immediately frowned. He glanced over to the bag resting right next to the foot of the low table. He moved to stare down the bridge of his nose at his father. "You have two well-working legs old man, go and get it yourself."

"It's for you so..." His father shrugged as he took another gulp of beer.

It probably was bad sigh to his maturity that the first thing he thought of at his father's words were 'present!' as if he was a 10 year old all over again. He grumbled as he scooted his way to the edge of the bed. He rose with a groan and started to make hi way stiffly to the table.

"Don't laugh!" He said, growling as he heard a badly imitated cough that didn't cover the deep chuckling coming from the bed in the slightest. It only made his father laugh even more when he bent down and grunted like an eighty year old with rheumatism.

"You look like a shot duck trying to waddle away to safety!" His father said between full bouts of laughs. He'd always had a strange sense of humor Troy thought as he so-called 'waddled' his way to the bed again. He carefully lowered himself into a sitting position; bluntly ignoring his dad's quiet snickering. He'd been so busy trying to protect his own honor that he hadn't even registered what he'd been asked to take.

It was a file folder. Curiosity peaked he opened it. His eyes winded at what he saw. Photos filled it, the subject always the same: A willowy and slender fennec fox. Some of them were relatively close pictures while others were far away and slightly blurred. He didn't know how his old man even got half of them since he recognized the backgrounds of some of them where some of the highest secured places on the earth: The White House. Pentagon. The list named those and many more.

"The Vatican Secret Archives. The 1960's Club. Area 51..." He dumped the content down onto the now-cleaned bed. "How the hell those he even gets into those places?" Troy said as he scratched his neck in frustrated bewilderment.

"A god go wherever he pleases, mortal places hold no boundaries to him." He looked up from the photos strewn on the bed at his father's words. Troy frowned. "And what the heck is that supposed to mean, huh?" He sat Indian-style, legs crossed and hands in his lap.

He felt cold as his father looked at him with and all-too serious look on his face. "Exactly what I'm saying, kid."

"Never took you for being so religious." Troy said with a wry smile and a snort before he reached for his beer on the bedside table. His sire snorted in an eerily similar manner as himself. "Don't mock me, kiddo. I know this man better than anyone--He's the one that made me after all."

The comment was so sudden that it made Troy jerk, spilling some beer down the wrist of the hand that held it. This was a topic he'd rather never discuss. His dad's matter-of-fact tone didn't help to ease the unease clenching his stomach together. Feeling abruptly ill he put the beer back and shifted again as silence took over once more. A year ago they would fill the night with discussions about anything and everything. But they had changed. He had changed. He no longer saw his father in the way he used to: what he'd learned a year before had created a chasm between them that he didn't know even as he was sitting in bed with the man if he wanted to build a bridge over or just leave things as they were.

"So it's true." His words felt rushed, but that seem to be the only way to keep them untainted by any emotion. He swallowed hard. "You weren't born from the union of two people. You used to be a bunch of cells taken and tampered with..." His stomached turned and he placed a hand over it to calm it down.

"And then I matured into a child's form and stepped out of the test-tube I was grown in." He didn't look at his father as he spoke, voice a soft hush against Troy's ears that made them twitch, seemingly extra sensitive to the subject. Unknowingly his fingers squeezed around the beer can until it started to undulate under the pressure and crunch. His old man noticed when he didn't and gently pried it from the punishing grip of his fingers.

After having gathered his composure back with a few breaths he turned to regard the man he called his only relative with a firm unwavering gaze. "And what about me? What am I?" He said as the minutes ticked by between them.

Troy's heart hammered as another tense silence tried to crush them with its unseen weight before it was lifted when one corner of his father's mouth abruptly turned upwards slightly. "You are you. Perfect just the way you are. Any man on this Earth would be lucky to call you his son."

Troy blinked, stared and then blinked again; a sudden sucking sensation in his chest that hadn't been there before and there was pressure behind his eyes that wanted out. Instead he smiled and watched as a full-fledged grin came onto his dad's face as he reached over to squeeze at Troy's shoulder.

They finished their beer in a companionable silence. As the elder handed Troy another one from the stash he said, "I take it's been bothering you over the year?" He didn't look at Troy as he said it, gaze instead looking at the flat-screen TV with only half-interest in them, which Troy knew meant he was thinking about something.

Troy opened his second beer for the night with a flick of his thumb. "Yeah, it has. Are you saying you're cool with it, with everything?" He said, momentarily tearing his eyes away from the TV to fix his gaze on the larger form beside him. His forehead was in heavy, perplexed creases.

It took a moment for Troy to get an answer. "It doesn't bother me. Can't say it ever did. More than anything I wanted to know simply why he created me the way he did. As I grew however and started to think more for myself I began to question if worshiping him and his ideals what was I wanted. Only then did I start to resent him, as I learned more and more of the world around me. You see, he sees the world differently than anyone else in this world--including you and me, Troy. And I'm not simply talking about worldviews or politics or ethics. He's beyond all of those things because of what he's done to himself. In a way I know he's quite a tragic man. He's truly alone in this world..."

"But how does that make him a god like you described him earlier?"

His father regarded him with that deep look in his eyes. His contractor face; a poker-face essentially. The one he reserved for the battlefield.

"I didn't exaggerate on that, I assure you. I've seen what he can do first hand. The thing he did with the sands and the bullets? He can do more than that, so much more. Things no-one could imagen in their wildest fantasies. But he paid a heavy price for it. He lost all what could be called emotion and ability to relate to others. He can control matter and energy, control others to do his bidding. But when I call him a god it's not because of what he can do but what he _can't_do. He's cold and will forever be cut off from the rest of humanity, will be regarded as a monster for the rest of his days. And I know he won't care one bit about it. That's why he's a god. Because he can't love." So saying, he reached over to stroke one of his son's pectorals.

"How come you and I aren't like that then?" Troy said frowning slightly in pleasure as the touch sent tingles down his back; absentmindedly he placed his hand over his dad's.

"He used himself as the very first test subject for his serum in increase the capacity of his mind. He quickly realized however that it wasn't strong enough. He's essentially poisoned himself and had to take two more doses to become stable. And once he'd done that his mind had trouble repairing itself. The sudden increase in what his brain could do turned everything into information, even his emotions. When he created me he injected me with a different strain of it; one that would grow as I grew. I only become stronger as I grow older." Said Cassius as he reached over to scratch behind one of Troy's ears. It made him let out a soft growl as he shifted against the pillow.

"That doesn't seem to make any sense to me, why wouldn't he want you to be as powerful as you could be from the start?" Troy said, glancing sideways at his dad. It made his old man smile knowingly.

"Perhaps it was jealousy? Or in those moments of human clarity he might have experience a last shimmer of human reason. I can't really tell and it would be meaningless to ask him now." He said as he sank down the bed onto his back and rearranged his pillow.

"So...What do we do now?" Troy wondered out loud, having turned to stare up into the ceiling, mind starting to contemplate on what road he'd take. His father's voice was slightly drowsy with the first quiet tones of sleep. "First thing you should probably do is to get back into work as soon as possible. You remember what I've told you about staying in the same place for too long, right?"

Troy closed his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I hear ya."

"Good." His father seemed to ignore the jab. "Once you've done that and once we've found a worthy group we'll start to plan for what comes ahead."

Something in his father's voice made the mercenary roll over and prop himself up on an elbow to look at the large form facing away from him. He could make out the contours of a buff shoulder in the blueish darkness of the room. He wondered when his dad turned the lights off.

"Old man, are you going to--"

"I'm going to kill him." The bed groaned as the large body turned around to face him. "I don't care if it takes years or if it's almost impossible to do: Amos Garcia will die for what's he's done to this world. It's my responsibility because I'm the only one who can do it. I don't like the thought of that man being in this world. There are more than enough of those like him already."

Troy felt a shiver of genuine dread tremble through him at his father's concise icy words. He still forced himself to crack a joke. "Whatever you say, Batman."

It earned him a punch on the shoulder. But it was worth it when he heard the old geezer give a halfhearted chuckle. "Go to sleep already, Troy. We're leaving tomorrow and I don't want to hear you whine about not getting enough sleep."

The body once more turned away from him, unware of the shocked expression on the other panther's face. In all of the years since his childhood, his father had rarely used his name. In that moment the things he'd worried himself over the past year fell away. None of that mattered anymore to him. All that did matter was to help his father as much as possible and to make sure that the mission that he'd taken responsibility for so readily was fulfilled no matter the cost.

Finally feeling complete with the fears in his mind laid to rest, Troy sagged back onto his pillow with a soft sigh and allowed his eyes to fall shut without worry.

Just as he was close to fall asleep something touched the very tip of his tail. Cracking open one eye he saw that his dad was still facing away from him.

If that's how you want it old man. Troy thought as he shifted slightly so his tail had more room to move.

He curled it around the one waiting for him under the covers. And he wouldn't have been able to swear on it, but he thought he heard a deep sigh of relief coming from beside him. He smiled and finally allowed his mind to slip away quietly into a deep, post-coital slumber, well aware that he was safe and looked after. That, he knew would never change as long as they both lived.