Our Powerful Family

The Love Of A Father

Gary’s POV:

I view these kids as if they were my own. I help care for them. Though Mercy is the main reason I even have them in my life. I wanted to shield the little girl from the world but she was so damn stubborn. I swear, when I wasn’t watching, she would somehow manage to skip out. I wish I knew how. But I stopped asking when she saved Max and brought the scared girl to me. The craziest thing? Mercy was only ten.

That girl is a miracle to all around her. If she hadn’t been there, I don’t like to think about what would have happened to Max. But Mercy learned to use her powers at a young age once I gave her the Coyote Amulet. In fact, she shifted into a large brown Coyote for the first time when she was eight. She gained her illusion powers a few weeks later once her and the amulet were aquatinted longer. You get your powers based on a few different things.

One, and most common, your fear. Fear is one of the strongest emotions that humans have. It tends to control us if we let it, and most people aren’t strong enough to go against our fear. 

Two, and slightly more rare, your desire. Not in a lusty way, but saying that, means what you really want deep down inside. Like a child longing to create a world in which she wasn’t lonely. Her own fantasy. A desire strong enough will fight the fear to gift you that what will make you happy. Occasionally the desire and fear come together to form a new emotion. No one has a name for it, but it’s powerful.

Three, and very rare, your determination. This is how I got my power. I am determined to protect Mercy and the others. They are family. I was given the power of Protection, able to create a type of force field or even a solid wall of bricks to protect the ones I love. But I can’t protect them now. 

I’m breathing heavily. The moment I saw Eva in pain, I started fighting against the vines. I was losing my energy, their screams and sobs only made it worse. My heart was heavy. All I felt was despair. I wanted to protect them but my determination and energy was draining by the millisecond. I’m weak. 

Mercy’s voice draws my attention. I look up to see her. But not her. Well, it was, just a younger version. When she was seven, a few months later is when I gave her the amulet. But now... it was the day. The day I found her. I know because I memorized everything about her looks that day. I was 33, walking home when I saw her.

She’s sitting on the curb, crying her eyes out. She’s beaten and bruised. Scorch marks cover her arms and I can practically see the emotional strain on her heart. Mercy’s hair smelled of flames, and I took pity on the girl instantly. She looks up at me, cheeks stained in tears. “Help... me...” she manages to get out before her voice cracks and she starts sobbing. 

She hugs me and I don’t even hesitate to hug her close. I felt an instant connection to this child. Watching her cry hurt me. I saw me in this poor girl, someone who felt alone. We needed each other. But this was one of the happiest days of my life. Why would I have been shown this?

I was given my answer when everything fades away, the memory shattering like glass. The jagged edges cut me but all I can do is watch her small form break away. Then I’m in complete darkness again. I hear crying. “What the hell-?” I don’t say anything else because I recognize the crying.

Mercy is laying, her back to me and a small light shining from lord knows where. But her sobs aren’t actually coming from her. Because she’s not moving. It’s young Mercy again. I take a step towards her, she’s only a few feet away now. “Mercy?” 

But she doesn’t respond. Nor does she even twitch a muscle. There’s a suddenly bang noise and several lights come on around me, creating small pods of light. My eyes widen. In each one, for as far as I can see, is Mercy. Only shes not young in all of them. Some she is the same age, but there are various versions of her lying everywhere. 

I hear the crying again and turn to see one Mercy. At age thirteen, she’s standing in the darkness between two of the other Mercys. I walk towards her, kneeling down so we are at eye level. “Mercy. What’s wrong, dear?” I ask, my fatherly protective side kicking in. 

I place my hands on her shoulders, trying to coax her into telling me. But instead, she bats my hands away, pushing me so shes now at least a foot away. There is hurt in her eyes as she sobs. “Why did you hurt us?!” She asks, half screaming and half breaking with her cries.

I feel my heart break. It’s falling apart in my chest. Me? Why would I hurt them? I wouldn’t. It’s that simple. I can’t hurt Mercy. It’s impossible for me. To hurt my own daughter? No way. She became mine the day I found her and she lost everyone else. 

I don’t take my eyes off her. I can’t. She looks so pained and hurt than I feel myself break. Everything I am falling away until I’m nothing. My greatest fear, her being hurt. And even worse, me being the cause. Something that usually builds me up and makes me stronger is the father / daughter love Mercy and I share. But right now, I feel as if the bond is breaking. By pain I somehow brought her.