Addition to my Dadler and Gravesson au
bell lives slowly crawling their way back to try and find out who they were before Mk ultra only to find nothing. Absolutely nothing its as if their life before their capture was non existent, and so they move on slowly and meticulously planning every painful way they could hurt or kill Adler and the safehouse crew.
But one little small American child sized problem shows itself.
Bell finally found Alder's home, a quite large double story house in San Diego, California. Its exactly what bell expected, a house bought from the money Adler gained from the hellish things he had done the furniture meticulously clean and placed expertly around the home to make it feel open and light but Bell saw the small inaccuracies, scattered folders, dirty ashtrays, pilled tape recorders. Evidence of two lives bleeding together.
Then bell made his way towards the kitchen trying to find the elusive CIA clandescent special officer or at least a place to wait for him to return, and there it is a few simple pieces of paper stuck to the pearl white fridge with a few animal magnets scribbled pictures starkly contrasted with the entire space the bright markers almost blinding against the white and beige furniture and atmosphere but its what the drawing shows is what truly makes the wheels in Bells head turn.
The drawing is of a man and a child its shoddily drawn that for sure but what is a childish drawing like this doing in the home of America's devil?
Bell awareness is sharply drawn away from the fridge as he hears loud footsteps coming from the staircase behind him, He turn around his hand reaching for the gun attached to his hip but he stops.
Standing there on the fourth stair from the floor is.......a child.
thin blonde hair, pale skin and deep blue eyes. The child's eyes are wide and filled with curiosity and slight fear its lips trembling as it speaks voice high and squeaky "Who are you mister"?" Adler has a child. Russell Adler has a child. the thought is unfamiliar and alien in Bell's mind the idea that Adler could even care for anything albeit a child is ludicrous and yet here he stood Infront of a mini Adler a gun on his hip.
The child's words finally registered in bell's mind and without thinking he spoke acting only on instinct "Name's bell, I'm a friend of your old man." as Bell said the words out loud it felt as though acid was being poured down his throat but the child took the bait not seemingly bothered by the dark balaclava he wore.
the child visibly relaxes a bright smile lighting up his face "nice to meet you mister bell! my name's Phillip!" Bell looks at the child, the child of his enemy, his torturer, the the conductor of the orchestra of pain he has endured since that faithful day on the airstrip in turkey.
Hours pass and Bell spends more time with the child. Phillip, he doesn't know why he haven't left somewhere deep down he cannot find it in him to leave Phillip alone again, And so he waits watching as the child plays oblivious to the real danger that he is in.
Phillip is sat on the lounge floor papers and crayons scattered around his small form various drawing have been made most of the titled 'bell and me' the drawing are shit but Bell doesn't care he nods and tell graves good job every time the child shoves another picture on his lap and every time Phillip smile so big it could light up the whole world before rushing back onto the floor to make another scraggily masterpiece.
The peaceful tranquility is broken as the sound of keys and the front door unlocking and opening reach Bell's ears, his spin goes rigid, body taut an cruel dangerously like a snake ready to strike.
a shout from the front door and footsteps coming towards the lounge. Adler. the voice is unmistakably his, the damn American accent and drawl of his voice echo's slightly through the vast house. Phillip is on his feet in less than a second a wide smile stretched across his small face his small feet carrying his as fast as a bullet down the long hallway a symphony of "daddy!" heavy panting and the sounds of a long hug ring through Bell's eardrums.
Bell's heart twists his hand lowering to the gun attached to his hip. He unhooks it holing it in hi lap where a drawing rested only a few seconds ago "daddy! come look-look at the drawing i made of me and Mister Bell!" Phillip pants dragging Adler down the hallway his small hand barely encasing Alder's large hand.
"Mister Bell like your teddy bear-?" Adler speaks confusion in his voice as he's dragged by his son into the lounge, Phillip runs to the floor in the middle of the circle of papers and crayons. But Adler stands, frozen, eyes wide in the doorway staring at the man he thought he killed leaning back on his couch a gun in hand. his child, his son not even 12 feet away from the man wearing the same damn balaclava that he wore all those months ago at solovetsky.
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romaincrisis
baratheonpilled
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dededos
