Parentage [Gabriel/Payton]

A wayward, trembling hand brushed over rounded glass beneath which sat a Sleeping Beauty by any other name. Her name in actuality? Maria. Soulless ocean-blue eyes looked into eternally shut eyelids, with nothing but pale, gently-wrinkled skin. She had been comatose for two years now; she had drifted away at forty-three, and hadn't aged a day. He'd paid an extra $100,000 of Typhon's money to have a clear cryogenic unit; so he could see her. Speak to her. Embrace her. As best he could, at least.

"My love," Mutters came from trembling lips. This was his most vulnerable. Within this room of purest white, tiles from floor-to-ceiling. As you stepped out of the elevator, the room was just blank in whiteness. White block lights at the ceiling. White tiles. A white bottom of the cryogenic unit. Three white tiles extended further than the natural ridge of the ceiling above, with small black indents in them. And even Maria's body itself, clad in nothing but the purest white. "My beautiful Hera," That was what he'd called her. It began as a joke. The Hera to his Zeus, the Juno to his Jupiter. His wife. Though she hadn't been his sister; whilst accusal never faded of what a monstrosity the man sitting longingly by his comatose wife was, he hadn't stooped that low.

Wiping single teardrops of simple salty translucence from his eyes, he felt her presence inside his mind. Her voice. Her soothing, oh-so-beautiful voice... Do not cry for me, Payton, Her words shimmered and echoed like the greatest symphony in all the world. Telepathy. I will awaken once more when my time is nigh, So she'd told him. And she'd told him that if it took until they were a hundred years old, withered and grey, before she awoke once more, then that was what it would take. A pang of pain in his side as tissue moved and shifted once more; this happened regularly for Zeus. Despite the agony, however, his hand stayed against the glass as his body tensed and her voice rang out once more. Locks of brown hair frozen still. But until then, do not weep for me.

They'd all traded something. He'd traded solace from pain for power; instead, now, he always hurt. Solomon had traded ability to learn for power; instead, now, he just knew. Konstantin had traded the ability to touch for power; instead, now, he could do naught but kill. And Maria? Maria had traded her consciousness for power. And with that, she had lost her husband, and he had lost her wife. She was still telepathically able; and her powers were... limitless, paired with others... but she couldn't touch him. She couldn't hold him and assure him what he had done was right in times of doubt he never had any more. And she couldn't kiss him.

The clear crackle of intercom split the fading echo of her voice; one blue-haired Payton Jensen snapped upright and toppled the chair, his neck whipped towards the direction of the grate. "Mister Jensen, sir, your son is here to see you," Ah. Gabriel. He'd sent for him, and then gotten too engulfed in the endeavours of his all-but-dead wife to remember. With a sigh, he strolled absolutely towards the intercom box once more, and swallowed back the last of the tears. He could withstand anything with this power; anything but the sight of her.

A single finger stretched forwards to press down a gentle indent in the wall. "Excellent, Rebecca," He spoke coolly, calmly, and clearly. His cheeks had long since calmed; the tears were pure. Payton looked as good as new. "Send him in," He spoke again, a smile drawing onto his face. His son. The only son he had, now. He thought of Max. Of his pitiful resistance, his trying to make a name for his... "Gaia". "Oh, and, Rebecca?" The link was still established. "Turn off the intercom." This room was the only in the building that had no cameras, at its very peak. Panacea was a fortress; but this room was unbreakable. Even for Gabriel, the walking tank; even for he. Hera was fused to the ground not by just his will, but hers too, and three feet of solid carbon steel beams in every direction. But they required some form of contact incase he slumped unconscious; and this was it. The intercom. And now that his son was to enter? It would be turned off. Payton lifted his finger off of the button as she did so, cutting it out cleanly with a crack. And with that, Payton Jensen smiled, and waited for his son-

No.

Zeus smiled, and waited for his son.

Scientists and secretaries alike scuttled to the edge of the hallway as Gabriel passed through. They ducked their heads, looked at their shoes, pretended to read their papers. It was anything to avoid speaking with, or even making eye contact with the titan among their ranks. Now and then, Gabriel wondered if they felt guilty for what they had been a part of, if they felt similarly about all of the children. He didn’t think it likely though. From a strictly scientific standpoint, most of these people seemed comfortable, even proud with their work. It was only when faced with the reality of their research that they became so evasive.

Cowards, the lot of them.

He had been on the training grounds as usual when his summons had arrived. Not bothering to clean himself up, he’d shuffled into the main part of the compound drenched in sweat, his flaxen hair clinging to the sides of his face. He’d taken the precaution of throwing on a shirt, having been previously warned by the guards about the dress code. That altercation of course, had not ended well. It was weeks before the west wing was fully functional again, and even longer before he was let back out of his cage. He really hated the cage.

Even as the men and women who hurried passed refused to meet his gaze, he could feel their stares boring into the back of his skull as he passed them. He knew they were terrified, and he knew why. However, he liked to think to himself that it was simply because he was the boss’ son, that his biological connection to the most powerful man in Typhon, perhaps on the planet was enough to make him stand out. He knew of course, that their stares were not brought about by that sole motivation, but it was a pleasant thought to have.

In truth, Gabriel was about as unsure of his relationship with his father as he was about the necessity of wearing clothing indoors. Payton seemed so young, it could hardly be possible that he was his natural born son. There was something off about it, something someone had tried to explain to him before, but he hadn’t been quite able to grasp it. The confusion had mostly just brought out his frustrations. That had been another unpleasant ending.

Besides the age factor, there was something all too strange about the dynamic. Gabriel had never been very interested in a family relationship of any sort, and at times it seemed his father was truly wounded by his coldness, but what kind of father would turn their children into monsters? He wasn’t bitter, but throwing his arm around the man and calling him dad just seemed out of line. Gabriel knew his father was wiser than him in almost every way, but if there was one thing Payton was wrong about it was that the abilities they’d been given were far from blessings.

He walked into his father’s office, or living quarters. He could never quite be sure what the room’s purpose was. His father was waiting for him with what was probably supposed to be a loving smile, which Gabriel acknowledged with a nod. The child known as Omega held his massive forearm up to shield his eyes from the unnatural white light and found himself staring at the form of his mother, sealed away in glass. It was all just another piece of their hopelessly damaged family.

Add his delusional brother to the mix and they were a full carton of cracked eggs.

“What’s going on?” he asked, trying his best to be nonchalant. “If this is about the mess in E6, I cleaned it up.”

"What’s going on? If this is about the mess in E6, I cleaned it up."

Payton arched an eyebrow at first, then rose both hands with an incredulous and off-centre chuckle. "You think I would call you to my base, my second home, your mother's sanctum, just for a simple... 'mess'?" Another chuckle as Zeus clutched at his chest, before shaking his head. "No, Gabriel, you are a big enough boy to take care of your own trash, now," He sighed and scratched the back of his head with one hand, before turning back to him, and letting his arms fall to his sides, still. Gabriel was... at times... a liability, but his use far outweighed the cost. He was a walking tank; and for this, the company suffered. But not as much so that it became difficult when dealing with him. He was still very much Payton's own flesh and blood; even if the DNA wasn't entirely synonymous.

"For starters, I simply wished to see you once more," It was true; the father and son... there was still some air of stigma surrounding their relationship. Far less than with Maxim's of course; there, his son openly wished to murder him. In cold blood. And without reason, through Payton's eyes, too! He had blessed the boy with a gift, and he had abandoned him whilst his own twin stood stalwart at his side. In some twisted way, Payton respected that; but that didn't matter. The boy was his enemy. "Your wayward siblings are becoming more and more unruly by the day, Gabriel. Even your own brother, flesh and blood... this Gaia organisation of his is not simply something to shrug off," It wasn't a major threat; six or seven metahuman twenty-somethings with delusions of grandeur and justice as compared to a force of tens of thousands of men armed to the teeth... Gaia were losing out regardless. But numbers, to Payton, meant nothing; he remembered quickly of Leonidas at Thermopylae. Six or seven could be lethal given the right scenarios - that fact still hung heavy in his mind. More reason to eliminate them.

"And, alas, you my son. I haven't seen you in days!" The boy- no, the man was hulking, and made him look not dissimilar from a dwarf. Yet, sadly, in the intellectual department... he was... somewhat... limited. But his awareness was not dampened; he knew that his father had invited him up here for a reason. Anything else could have been delegated. And that reason was comatose inside a cryogenic unit at the edge of the room. "But..."

A sigh. "I called you up here for another reason, also," He spoke lightly and delicately, dragging another seat from the centre of the room up to Hera's grail and armour. Bullet-proof, blade-proof, fire-proof, water-proof, air-proof; a single filtered pipe fetched air from the atmosphere from halfway across the city as to avoid compromising the place. Biological scanners at six different points along the pipe's length. And even then, the end of that pipe was so heavily guarded that nothing could get in. At the slightest sign of any air-transmitted pathogen she was switched onto 40% reserve oxygen. It made her even more docile in her sleep, unwavering and unmoving. Typhon could afford it... so he could afford it. "Sit. Your mother seeks to speak with you,"

A welcoming hand and a warm smile gestured to Maria comatose upon a white bed beneath the shield. This whole thing... the endeavours of twisted justice... they were peculiar. Everything felt to Payton to be absolutely correct, but any other objective individual would find the atmosphere both deeply disturbing and yet subtly comforting. Perhaps it was the minor sedatives that flowed through the air at any time, enough to make even Gabriel docile after a long enough time, but perhaps it was something else. Simply an aura Hera radiated as the skylights above allowed in a single beam of natural sunshine focused onto her pure and sanctified body. She was Zeus' world. And he wasn't going to let her go.

Hello, Gabriel, She spoke, pushing the trajectory onto her son and her son alone. How have you been, my darling?

The hulking man slumped into the chair, his frame nearly failing to fit into its seat. He was hesitant, that much was obvious. Talk of stomping out Gaia had caught his interest, and the change of topic had come as quite the disappointment to him. However, the direction things had gone was even worse. Whatever extraordinary form of communication his father engaged his mother in, he tried to avoid it if at all possible. Sleeping people were not supposed to talk, and if they did it was definitely not supposed to be like this.

“I uh…” the man placed his palms up against his temples, as if to relieve himself of a headache. “I’m fine.”

Get out of my head.

To a man of such delicate mental stability, the slightest of internal disturbances could bring about chaos. Gabriel could feel his knees beginning to tremble, his pulse quicken, and the whole of his body surge with energy. He knew what was happening, and he needed more than anything to restrain it. Thus far no major outward signs of the state he was in could be seen, but it was only a matter of time. If he allowed himself to lose it here, he knew Payton Jensen, Zeus would have no qualms about striking him down to protect his comatose wife.

If this woman were truly peering into Gabriel’s mind, she would encounter naught but a vortex of hatred so vast and turbulent no serenity could possibly venture through it. There was no peace to be had for this man, constantly on the brink of madness. He was, indeed, less of a being and more of an entity now. His soul had long ago been ripped from him, leaving his body to be inhabited by a creature of darkness.

“I’m… fine,” he affirmed at last, breathing the intoxicant air in as deeply as he could.

Zeus watched, naught but an observer. His son was slowly turning from the intimidating beast the serum had reforged the boy as into a dribbling wreck clutching at his temples. He'd long-since known of the problem with telepathy Gabriel had; but it was unhealthy for Hera not to hear from her only child - the only one that mattered, at least - regularly, at least. “I’m fine.” Payton arched an eyebrow at this, however. A gentle smirk slipped onto his face.

"Relax, son," He murmured, with that snide, reassuring, and ever-manipulative smile sitting stoic upon his face. "Your mother doesn't seek to hurt you." However, his words held no substance, no meaning, and just false feeling with complex-acted tone underlying beneath it all. Hera didn't, of course; but normally those words would have been accompanied with a hand around his neck and a pat on the back. Payton Jensen supplied neither. No reassuring gestures. Just petty words that only meant something to those that couldn't divine the truth behind them: which was the simple fact that Zeus didn't care.

“I’m… fine,” A reiteration. Zeus frowned. Hera was as still as ever. A reiteration this vein meant something was awry. The regular problem with psychics, of course; but Gabriel looked... sounded... seemed in aura... just... irked by the entire ordeal. The blue-haired man sat still with his hands folded and fingers interlocked in his lap as his expression quickly simmered back down to one of neutrality, and he sighed, before feeling Maria's presence in his mind once more.

Something troubles him, Payton. The man didn't stir, and didn't bother to answer out loud. His mind is... turbulent. Moreso than usual. That solicited a smirk from the ever-stoic businessman. 'Turbulent' was one way of putting it for a genetic freak with modified DNA, an IQ of 85, and one hell of an anger management problem. In some respects, Gabriel was a failure, when compared to Maxim. Gabriel was loyal to a T through to the point that he often didn't consider every angle; it was an impossibility for Zeus to ever consider the larger twin betraying Typhon. Max.... Max was intelligent, a tactician through-and-through. But, alas, he was the only one of the twenty-four with potential enough to lead at such a young age. Had the tanks opened on-schedule, behaviour inhibitors would have been in place... but the Tartarus breakout had not been planned.

"Gabriel," Zeus spoke softly, a hand moving gingerly from his throbbing ribcage. "Is there a problem you need to talk about with your mother and I?" Ever the dysfunctional family. Ever the parents with pretenses and disguises of parents. The dynamics weren't too complex. But the entire thing was a labyrinth of loyalties, backstabbing ideals and underlying resentment that not even the greatest explorers could navigate through.