InsaneJournal

Current mood:	bitchy
Entry tags:	jesse delacroix

Who: Jesse & Richard Delacroix
What: One last "chat", before the end
When: Early Saturday morning
Where: Hospital in Baton Rouge
Warnings: Language, homophobia, biphobia, slut-shaming, TBD


It was 3 a.m.

Jesse sat in a chair next to his father's hospital bed, listening to the beeping and whirring of the machines. He'd sworn, as he rode away from his home, that he'd never come back, not even for his father's funeral. But the promise he'd made to Jayden trumped everything else, and so here he was. Sitting at the bedside of the man he despised.

'Terminal', the doctors had said. 'Nothing we can do now but make him comfortable. He's got a week at most.'

Jesse hadn't been able to entirely squash the surge of savage joy that had gone through him when he'd heard the news. He'd managed to keep it off of his face, though. It was still kind of hard to believe. Next week, his father wouldn't be here anymore. Jayden wouldn't have to live in fear anymore. Jesse had never wished for death to hurry up and claim someone, but he'd be lying if he said he wished his father would make a full recovery.

Richard stirred in his bed, blinking awake. His eyes focused on Jesse, and an unpleasant expression crossed his face. "And so the prodigal son returns," he said, instead of a greeting.

Jesse scoffed. "The prodigal son left because he wanted to. Plus, his father welcomed him home with open arms. 'Exiled son' would probably be closer."

"The old saying is true, then, that even the Devil can quote scripture," his father rasped.

Jesse's mouth fell open slightly. "Did you seriously just call me the Devil?" he asked incredulously.

"It seemed fitting," was the biting retort. "Would you prefer 'deviant' instead?"

Jesse just snorted. "I've actually sort of embraced that one," he said cheekily.

"So you're still a deviant and a whore then, why am I not surprised," Richard said bitterly.

"I'm pretty sure they prefer the term 'sex workers', plus, they charge," Jesse said. "I just sleep with people."

"Have you no shame?" his father asked, struggling to sit up. "No thought for your own soul? Or what Jayden thinks of you? He looks up to you, though I'll be damned if I know why."

"As to the first: no," Jesse answered. "As to the second: I do right by the people who do right by me. I try to be kind to everyone. I live the best life that I can. What happens after I'm dead, well...it'll happen. As for Jayden, it might be because I'm the only one who showed him any kindness or affection. Seriously, he gets beat up and bullied, and you tell him to toughen up? He's your son, for fucks sake. What kind of father does that?"

"He's a weakling, he needs to learn to stand up for himself," his father said dismissively. "Your mother always coddled you boys, and you got the worst of it-"

"Don't you fucking dare blame Mom for this," Jesse spat. "She loved us the way you never did, she was the best thing that ever happened to us." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You know what I wish? I wish you had died instead of her." He knew he should feel awful for saying it, but he'd long ago stopped having anything resembling familial affection for his father. And he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

His father's lips twisted in a bitter smile. "You won't have to wait long to get your wish," he replied. "Soon this misery will all be behind me. But tell me, Jesse, what's waiting for you when you die?"

"The same thing that's waiting for you, I expect," Jesse said, rising from his chair. "Hell. I won't even be able to escape you after I'm dead. Though I am looking forward to the next 50 or so years of peace." Having said that, he turned on his heel and walked out, not sparing his father a backward glance.