winryweiss: (Default)
Fill for the prompt Dear father. And partially for Child abuse promt as well
Another different view on Tintin and Haddock's relationship. This time not so twisted. *hehe* As much as I love them as lovers, I have totally no problem to see them like this.
part two part three
Warnings : None. So far.
Tintin’s POV


Not in Blood, but in Bond – part 1/3

I could not get that thought out of my head. I did occupied my mind with other problems – mysteries to solve, plans for our next journey, articles to write – but it always came spiraling back. Each time more intensive, more urgent. And more bitter, since there is no way it could be truth.

I remember that evening clearly, that pompous party for signora Castafiore to celebrate yet another successful performance of hers. The desperation in Captain’s eyes when he had to promise that the three of us will surely come, Professor’s enthusiasm and Nestor’s silent pondering about what he need to do to prepare us perfectly. And probably what sort of beverage he need to use to bribe Captain for not pretending a sudden illness. Then the party itself, fancy event indeed. Plenty of people in glamorous, luxurious dresses, refined and expensive tuxedos, gentility present everywhere.
Of course, Captain was nervous. “Lad,” he told me, “I’ll do something embarrassing surely.”
“Surely not, Captain.” I patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Just keep your distance from fragile things.”
He gave me an injured look, but I saw his lips curl into soft smile, then he sighed and reached up to straighten my tie.
That was when signora Castafiore bumped into us, dragging some ladies with her. She started to chatter, introducing us by the way and then floated away, leaving us with pack of talkative ladies, who were very eager to get to know us better.
“Oh, so you were a sea captain, mister Haddock?”
“And you are a journalist, young boy?”
“Will you tell us about your voyages, sir Haddock?”
“What sort of articles do you write, Tintin?”
“Oh, mister Haddock, you must be proud to have such a skilful son.”
Son. They thought that I am Haddock’s son. And neither of us corrected them.

The feeling I had back then, when they made that wrong estimation, was warm. Warmer than anything. And pleasant. Nearly overpowering the one I had when Captain proposed me to move to Marlinspike.
I want it to be truth. I want to really be his son. Why it is not like that? Why couldn’t I have been born to him? Then I wouldn’t be growing up in that ... that place ... that dreadful orphanage. Then I would have loving father. ... But probably, I wouldn’t be the one I am.
But still …
Still
“C’mere, laddie, what’s wrong?” Strong and warm hand covers my shoulder, stopping me.
“Ah, Captain …” I look at him surprised, realizing that I walked along him in total silence for nearly whole hour, while he was probably talking at me. “I have been thinking about something.”
“Well, I noticed that.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t.” He smiles at me gently. “Can I help ya?”
“I … don’t think so.” I squeeze his hand, peeling it from my shoulder. “Let’s enjoy the market, shall we?”
“I’m already doin’ that, m’boy.”
“And did you found something interesting?”
“Apart from Snowy’s passion to chase brainlessly after pigeons?”
I laugh. “Like you didn’t know that.”

Sigh, no story for me on the market. But we found a lovely antique meerschaum, which dad didn’t resist and bought.
Wait.
Dad?
I feel chills up my spine. Did I really, really … ?
“Lad? Ya sure yer fine? Yer pale as sheet.”
“Yes. Yes, da…t’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Tintin, listen, if yer not feelin’ good …”
Snowy starts barking furiously as a group of dangerously looking thugs surrounds us.
Oh, no, not again.
“We have more pressing issue here, Captain.”
“What, again?”
They attack without any care for the street full of people and I must admit that they are good. But me and da…Captain were in too many fights. And Snowy is great help. We could hold ourselves against bigger groups.
But somehow they got us separated. Captain ends up encircled by five of them. Well, four, the fifth is trying to shake off Snowy desperately. I’m facing a beefy one and a beanpole and they are giving me pretty hard time.
“TINTIN! WATCH OUT!” Captain voice is terrified.
I glance at him just in time to see how one of those men trips him up while the other hits him hard to back, sending him to ground.
He does not move.
He does not move!
“DAD!” That scream rise from my mouth and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.
And then, darkness.
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