The color drains from Steve's vision at the edges. It's not even red. It's hazing grey. And the words are fast, and dangerous, like he can't believe Danny would even dare dream of touching his father. That he's just boiling for trying to make this laughable joke of him as a cop, as anything worth noticing, a fight. "What did you say to me?"
Because it's like he blew the thermometer. Stepped up with the need to smack Steve in the face, with the one thing that explodes out in glass fragments and rage, layered with guilt, ownership, and every damn need of his to see this done right. Like the five years he gave up to this bastard wasn't enough, wasn't even the beginning. All those bodies and case files. Because no his father is on the top of the heap. And he's still doing it.
Because it's his damn job. Because no matter how fucked up their family is that's his dad.
With the blood all over the damn walls, that still hasn't left his nose. Saying he loved Steve, and he never said it enough.
Which is not for anyone to put their hands on. Especially not this fucking screw up of a cop, with less going for him that shack that would blow down by a sneeze and not a single coworker at his back, who even blinked an eye at the idea of him being taken off their hands. "What Did you Just Say To Me??"
Because he's being a sick, selfish bastard. His daughter, above every other person's little girl in the world. They can all rot, so long as his monkey and her Mr. Hoppy are in one piece. And it's so sick. This is why he hates natives, and their closed minds, and self serving everything.
"What if she was yours?" He yelled. Locked up, cringing from even the light and terrified of a man telling her to come with him. "Huh? Is there anything you would not do to track down the son of a bitch who did that to her and kill him?"
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-19 04:00 pm (UTC)Because it's like he blew the thermometer. Stepped up with the need to smack Steve in the face, with the one thing that explodes out in glass fragments and rage, layered with guilt, ownership, and every damn need of his to see this done right. Like the five years he gave up to this bastard wasn't enough, wasn't even the beginning. All those bodies and case files. Because no his father is on the top of the heap. And he's still doing it.
Because it's his damn job. Because no matter how fucked up their family is that's his dad.
With the blood all over the damn walls, that still hasn't left his nose. Saying he loved Steve, and he never said it enough.
Which is not for anyone to put their hands on. Especially not this fucking screw up of a cop, with less going for him that shack that would blow down by a sneeze and not a single coworker at his back, who even blinked an eye at the idea of him being taken off their hands. "What Did you Just Say To Me??"
Because he's being a sick, selfish bastard. His daughter, above every other person's little girl in the world. They can all rot, so long as his monkey and her Mr. Hoppy are in one piece. And it's so sick. This is why he hates natives, and their closed minds, and self serving everything.
"What if she was yours?" He yelled. Locked up, cringing from even the light and terrified of a man telling her to come with him. "Huh? Is there anything you would not do to track down the son of a bitch who did that to her and kill him?"