You ARE The Father! [Finished!]

[Bee]

He'd written to his mother first, of course, asking her about symptoms, for advice, because his mother was a pain in the ass, but he loved her, and she had produced enough spawn to populate her own realm. If anyone would know how these things worked, it was her.

Sana had sent back a letter that was nothing but two entire sheets of "AHAHAHA" in huge, uneven scrawl, like his mother could barely keep the pen in her paw. There were tear stains on the paper. That was how hard she was laughing. Then came another: see a doctor, you're fucked.

Or had been fucked, rather. He guessed that answered THAT fucking question he'd walked away with when he and Rin had had their drunken...thing.

Speaking of Rin. He reached the detective's office. He let his rage bubble a moment. Then he slammed his fist against the door repeatedly. He hoped it fucking broke.

"Open up, asshole, I know you sleep here!"

[Dark]

It was getting on in the evening, and Rin had been carefully considering his options: lay down on his lumpy mattress and stare at the ceiling, or sit at his desk and stare at the wall. This tricky decision making process was interrupted before its conclusion by a loud disturbance at the door.

Rin frowned at the door to his office. The loud disturbance sounded suspiciously like Jin. The same Jin that he had awkwardly parted ways with at the conclusion of the case; that had been several months ago, to Rin's recollection, and he couldn't think of any particular reason that would have brought the waspish man back into his life.

Jin sounded a bit pissed off for whatever reason, and Rin wasn't entirely sure he wanted to find out why. Still, it beat starring at the wall. So he opened the door.

[Bee]

"You," he said, spitting the word out like a bit of toxic sludge, ever the more wrathful now that he was actually looking at his stupid fucking bat face that looked like it was just woken up, as if he didn't fucking know what a terrible prick he was and why Jin was here, "are a miserable piece of shit, and I fucking hate you."

He barged in past the bat. He saw a convenient lamp and smashed his spaded tail into it, sending it crashing to the floor in a hail of shards, and then for good measure he smacked the fucking chair over, because the chair had basically been a tacit accomplice in the bloody atrocity that had transpired. "You see that lamp?" he continued, menacingly. "That's going to be your face. And then it's going to be your cock. And then it's going to be the rest of you."

That stupid painting had been in on it too. He grabbed it and threw it to the ground. The glass shattered in an intensely satisfying way.

[Dark]

Opening the door had apparently been a mistake. Rin watched with morbid curiosity as Jin took his office apart with readily apparent fury, feeling completely at a loss as to what had caused such a snit. And why exactly he was the target of Jin's rage.

The lamp was a bit of a loss, but easily replaced; he felt rather mournful about the painting, though. He thought about interfering, but a lingering sense of self-preservation held him back. He stood, awkwardly, and watched Jin rampage.

Still. This was a little bit ridiculous, even for the canine, and Rin didn't relish the thought of bringing the wrath of his landlord (hopefully not on the premise) down on his head in addition for noise pollution. All this boiled down to growing a pair and finding out just what this was all about.

"What the fuck, Jin." Seriously. What the fuck.

[Bee]

He shook a shard of glass at him, threateningly, with the thought of where to stick the thing (face? Chest? Neck? Which would offer the slowest, bloodiest death?) in the back of his head. He had a fucking good rage going. Was he shaking? Yes he was. He wanted to destroy a lot more shit before he started feeling drained. And why would he feel drained? Because he had fucking parasites leeching his life away. Who knew how many were in there. Greedily reaching out their unformed little hands at his nutrients, sapping his energy.

"Fucking," he said, enunciating the first syllable hard, "is exactly what the fuck the fuck is. More to a point, the results of fucking." He threw the piece of glass at the wall and watched it lodge. A hole! He needed to make more of those. Lots more. In both the wall and Rin's cranium.

[Dark]

Rin watched the glass embed itself in the plaster with a detached sort of disbelief--that was definitely coming out of his deposit; his landlord was going to enjoy shredding him into tiny bloody bits over it (if Jin didn't beat him to the punch)--and tried to process Jin's ranting.

Fucking. They'd--done that. Though, admittedly, he didn't remember much of the proceedings; he hadn't been that smashed in a long time, and the thought of alcohol still made him a bit queasy (he was feeling queasy right now). The results? Emotional trauma, most defiantly. The other possibility he refused to consider; every time he tried, his mind skittered away in terror.

Numbly, he watched Jin slowly loose steam; seemed like he was wearing himself out. Rin didn't want to know what happened when Jin stopped yelling.

Jin. Who looked perfectly normal, to Rin's eye. But it had only been a couple months, and why would he lie? What reason would he have to lie about something like this?

Rin sat down, legs suddenly too shaky to hold him.

[Bee]

The wall was peppered with shards and another chair had fallen victim to his rage--he'd ripped one leg off it and smashed the rest of the chair with it. Now he was breathing heavily. Rin looked like someone had punched him in the gut. Had Jin punched him in the gut? He couldn't quite remember, but he fucking hoped so.

He threw the chair leg into the desk in what was probably his final act of viciousness and tossed his hair out of his eyes. The office looked suitably trashed. When he got his second wind, he'd do the same to Rin.

"Oh," he said, with a sneer, though the words came out on a pant and tragically lacked some of the force he wanted to throw behind them, "does the genius detective get it? You don't need to worry about it though, because I'm going to kill you."

[Dark]

Rin watched the irate canine with trepidation and bubbling hysteria. He was trying valiantly to come to terms with what was happening--his thoughts kept shying away from the crux of the issue--but it was hard to come to terms with anything if he was dead. And while he was fairly certain that Jin was entirely serious about making an attempt on his life, Rin was having a hard time taking him seriously.

Jin looked to be in complete disarray--like Rin's office, which he didn't want to think about at the moment because he was fairly certain he would be evicted come morning--huffing and puffing, with his usually carefully groomed hair a complete mess. Despite the destruction he had wrecked on the office, he looked as threatening as a wet cat.

They really needed to talk about this. "Jin--" He couldn't quite get the words out. What did a person say in this situation? He was so fucked.

[Bee]

He really didn't want to hear any attempt at placating. Rin wasn't about to talk him right the fuck out of anything. He came here with a mission and he was damn well going to carry it out. Reason could go fuck itself. Rin could go fuck himself and die. He'd beat the tar out of him until he was satisfied with the results and then draw inspiration for what to do next from looking at Rin's squishy face.

And there was the second wind! Sort of. Shit, maybe he shouldn't have destroyed the second chair. Fuck it. He figured he still had enough in him to pound Rin's face in, and that confidence was enough to propel him forward toward the bat, teeth bared, tail wagging dangerously, hoping to bite the asshole's nose off while his tail smashed the back of his head in.

[Dark]

There was a brief moment, as Jin lunged at him with a feral snarl, that Rin desperately wished he hadn't opened the door; he should have let the crazy bloody bastard rot in the hallway. And then Jin had tackled him, a fury of flailing limbs and thumping tail and gnashing teeth.

Rin blocked the teeth that seemed to be aiming for his jugular, and considered his limited options. His usual response to this sort of situation was to pound the fucker attacking him into into the ground, diplomacy be damned, but if Jin was--fuck--have to say it--stupid--fuck--pregnant--if Jin was fucking pregnant, Rin couldn't do that. God damn. Fuck.

Rin heaved up and then rolled, taking the canine with him, and ending with himself on top of the pile. Then he proceeded to pin the canine, relying on his heavier body mass (Jin was a skinny ass bastard) and being able to cover a lot more surface area, using his wings to the advantage. It seemed to work, for the most part; Jin's tail was a bit on an annoyance.

Let the canine wear himself out the rest of the way, and then maybe they could talk.