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Each step echoed as Thad navigated through the Earthgov laboratory. Even after a decade moving about the space was like second nature for the clone. Everything was just as he remembered it. Every aspect of the lab was pristine and antiseptic. It was so cold and unfeeling. From the pale white lights that lit every corner of the lab and its spotless floor tiles to the sterile scent that burned his lungs as he breathed in.
Thad let out a shuddering exhale as he stopped in his tracks. His hands clenched by his sides tight and trembling. It wasn’t the smell that made him feel sick or caused him to dig his nails into the flesh of his palms to the point that his knuckles turned white. It was something else that twisted and writhed inside him. It forced him to stop as he tried to move forward.
"Keep going." He whispered to himself, "What can he possibly do to you now? You're stronger. You're faster than he ever could be. You're not some stupid kid anymore."
He wasn’t the same boy who had once be so loyal to his family. He was no longer so naive and trusting of his 'father'. He didn’t desire his praise or his false love. He had grown whether he had wanted to or not. That's what this life, this 'family,' had forced him to do.
Thad knew the bitter truth and had swallowed it down. He had forced himself to despite the anger he felt, despite how much he wanted to blame others like Max and Bart, who had revealed the truth to him. He had finally accepted it and now he had still had so much to do. Even now burdened and embittered and weighed down by what had been done to him and what he had done. He knew he had so much to make up for.
But first he needed to do this for himself.
His self-preservation be damned, he had to return. He had to face his father.
Thad took a sharp breath and exhaled as he took another step into the labyrinthine laboratory and then another. Even with the trepidation the coursed throughout his body, that screamed at him to go back, to run, he moved forward. The sound of his footsteps sounded above the mechanical whirring machines and the unmistakable and rhythmic clinking of glass beakers and test tubes. His presence no longer matched with this place of artificial perfection.
Just like always he was here with his back turned to Thad, straight and tall as he swirled an unknown solution within a test tube before setting it down and took his notes on a holopad. This meeting was inevitable.
It was always inevitable.
Thad knew he could end this in a second and his father would never know what had happened to him or who did it. One swift movement and he could snap his neck. That would be it. He could do it. He told himself that, but never did he find it in himself to move against his father.
He couldn't. He couldn't raise a hand to his 'father'. Not even when he knew better than to think that President Thawne ever viewed him as a son. He had been a thing, an object to own, a tool to enact his misguided vengeance, a puppet to bend to his whims, and that was it. And yet Thad still couldn’t help, but refer to him as his ‘father’ in his head. He wasn’t President Thawne's son, but he was his father. No matter what.
Bound by blood, by the act of creation, and the simulacrum of love given in their earliest days that is embedded in their skin.
You could bring a child into the world, treat them however you liked, and discard them at a whim, but they could never discard you no matter how hard they tried.
How terrible was that?
No matter how many times Thad had pictured this twisted reunion in his head, he had expected something. Anything. Recognition. For him to turn around, but there was nothing as Thawne continued to scratch down his notes.
Gathering himself, Thad stepped forward, further closing the space between them, but still he kept himself at a distance; almost in a conflicted fashion as he rocked back and forth on his feet almost as if his body questioned whether or not to bolt in an instance. He opened his mouth to speak, to berate the man who created him, to scold him for all he had done, to finally speak his mind to the man he had trusted and who in turn had hurt him so deeply, “—.”
But Thawne’s voice cuts through his own words, deafening them to silence as if he knew all along what the clone was about to do. As if he knew his every word, thought, and pattern like the clone was some cheap wind-up toy he had grown tired of.
“Thaddeus.” He simply says, acknowledging the clone’s presence with his back still turned to him. He knew he had been here this entire time, and yet he still would not face him as he took his time writing down the last of his notes. “So it is true what they say. The prodigal son does return. Eventually.”
President Thawne finally turns to face him. His clone. His creation. His failure.
Though little more than a decade had past since they had last seen each other, the years had not changed President Thawne in the least bit. He was still as imposing of presence since Thad had been a child running around the training area of the laboratory, endless running drills, and glimpsing toward toward the large windows a floor above that looked down upon this laboratory, this enclosure, where he had grown. He had known Thawne' silhouette, as the man had stared down at him and his progress from high above, since he was a child.
Always a looming figure in his mind.
Thad, on the other hand, had changed infinitely more so in comparison. His hair grown longer than it was in his youth, his body was now tall and lean and muscled, and faint scars that once had not stretched across the expanse of his body from head to toe now marked his flesh and reminded him of his past mistakes.
Looking at Thawne unchanged made his throat clench and feel dryer. It was like he was a boy again looking up to a giant, a god, a martyr, a saint. But Thad knew that this man was none of those things. He was just a man. A father who thought he was God and acted like it in his own selfish mortal way.
Any words Thad had thought to summon were choked on.
He had come here with a plan. This was his moment to tell his father off. To berate him. To yell. To scream. To make him feel a fraction of the pain he had inflicted upon him, but as he looked upon President Thawne, he shrunk back just like the little boy he swore he wasn’t any longer. No matter how much older he got, no matter how many times he whispered to himself that he was not the same person, not the same stupid kid he had once been, he realized with the shuddering of his breath and the trembling that vibrated through his body and all the way through to his atoms, instinctively ready to flee, that he was still the same little boy who was still so scared of upsetting his father.
It sickened him. He knew better than this. He knew he did, but his body always betrayed him no matter how many times he went through what he wanted to say and do in his head.
“Look at you, Thaddeus. All grown up.” Thawne's words cut through the silence and Thad couldn't help but winced at how sweet and fond those words sounded, and how much a part of him still wanted that affection to be true. Shame and anger toward himself flooded Thad. He shouldn’t have cared what President Thawne thought of him. He used him.
So why did his words affect him so? It was unmistakably a father’s effect upon a son that he had upon him.
Thad's hands clenched into fists trembled at his sides. How pathetic was he? Just a few honeyed words and he could barely do a thing. This wasn't the kind of person he was. It wasn't the kind of person he wanted to be.
Words try to form on his tongue as he struggles and stutters, and finally he manages to force out the words, "I’m...I'm not here...to reminisce.”
With just those few few words all false warmth in Thawne melts away. In those little half-stuttered words that challenged the man before him, he had made it clear he would not be manipulated. Not again. Thad was going to stand up for himself this time.
“Oh, is that so? Then why oh why have you finally graced your father with your presence?” Thawne replies with a cold calm, his postured relaxed as he put his hands in his pockets with a casual ease. But still that word stung Thad. Thawne knew how it hurt him so. He knew he still held some power over the boy he had created. After all, while Thad may have been a clone and a poor failure of a copy, but he was still human. A heart beat in that child's chest.
"Well?" Thawne snaps, "Answer me, boy."
Everything about this moment left Thad feeling off kilter. Out of control. This reunion had been Thad’s plan. His! He should have had control here. The advantage of surprise. His presence should have been an omen for Thawne, but he wasn’t the least bit in control. No. Instead, President Thawne was. President Thawne should had been the one scared of seeing him again, but instead blood rushed and thrummed through Thad's ears. His heart beat endlessly as it battered and beat the inside of his chest. It rattled all through his body. He couldn't escape the feeling, but he knew he needed to put his foot down. He needed to end this despite how much he had lost control. He needed to make him know that he was no longer his little puppet.
“You don’t get to control me anymore. Y-you used me. What you did to me, creating me, forcing an empty existence onto me was cruel and fucked up! My life was wasted on your stupid feud! My entire existence was wasted on making some old bitter ghosts who had wasted their own lives happy! I didn’t deserve that! I didn't deserve any of it!”
President Thawne’s eyes narrowed at Thad’s words. His tone. The disrespect this thing, his creation, showed him, but he didn’t snap or yell or strike at the clone. He was always in control.
Though Thad always seemed to want to test his patience.
With a child's trembling lip the grown clone asserted, "I’m going to make things right. I'm going to.”
And that was when President Thawne had enough.
Thawne steps forward, “Are you done with your tantrum?" And Thad steps back, "Your childish rebellion? Have you let it all off your chest?” He asked calmly instead of with cruelty. It was as if Thad was the one in the wrong in this moment. As if he wasn’t the one making sense. As if his feelings were the backwards illogical nonsense of a child who hadn't gotten their way.
“Did you not think I wanted what was best for you? Did you not think I’m proud of you or loved you? You’re a Thawne. I wanted only the best for you. I wanted you to be tough and to earn the good in your life and you did, Thad. You did what generations before you could not do. What even I couldn’t do on my own.” He said walking towards Thad, closing the distance, his voice so convincing in the clone's ears that so rarely heard praise, “I’m proud of you and what you’ve accomplished, Thad.” Thawne reached out towards Thad and ever so gently placed his hand atop the young man’s head before gingerly pulling him close into a hug. He stroked the back of his head as if he was still just a boy, "I've always loved you."
And Thad in that moment didn’t know what to do. He wanted to jerk away from him, to reject him and his twisted praise, but another part of him had always wanted to hear those words, to soak in the praise from the man who never once gave it. Thad was frozen there in place, staring down at the floor and at his own feet that refused to move.
“Is that what you wanted all along?” Thawne was calm and gentle for that moment, but that hand once gentle turned cruel grabbing a fist full of his hair and pulled his head back, forcing Thad to look up at him. Thad grimaced and grit his teeth, but he did not let out a pained yelp or even a shout. President Thawne had always known what he wanted. He knew what he wanted to hear. He twisted those old naive dreams Thad had thought he had let go of so long ago. He wished he had, but they simply had been buried and smothered, but they were never dead.
“How easy it is to manipulate you with just a few pretty words. I raised you, trained you, gave you the best education you could ever receive, and yet you still act like a naive fool.” Thawne said with finally releasing him and pushing him back and away from him. It wasn’t as if Thad could harm him.
“That’s all you’ll ever be. You must know that by now, Thaddeus. You will always be nothing. You’re just a clone. A thing that I made by splicing a little DNA! You can try to make amends with the Allens all you like, but nothing will change. They won’t trust you! You’ll always be a murderer! You always be a facsimile of something real! You are worse than nothing, Thaddeus! You are a copy!”
With each remark Thawne stepped toward Thad, and Thad scrambled back and away from him on the cold tile floor until he finally backed into another desk. There was no where to go. No thoughts to run or simply vibrate through the obstacle as he simply took President Thawne’s words. Unable to speak. Unable to will himself to fight back.
President Thawne had dealt with Meloni’s rebellion just as easily, but unlike Thad she had actually had a spine to try and kill him. To actively work against him in every way, but Thad disappointed him once again. Thad was just a boy in his eyes. He always would be. All he was, was a brat who didn’t know his place. He was a thing that needed correction. He needed to know his place in this world. Thad knew this. He knew all of this in his head. He had watched and studied for so long just as he done long ago with Bart.
“Did you truly think I would ever care about your feelings, Thaddeus?”
“…No.” Thad’s expression flickered with emotion he tried to suppress deep down, but even as he spoke his voice cracked with emotion, “No, I don’t.” He knew better in his head, he knew that Thawne would never care for him, but he couldn’t help but feel in the moment when he heard those words.
“Keep that in mind. The Allens won’t either even if you ‘want to make things right’.” He smirked at those words. The look in his eyes clear as his hand reached toward Thad ready to grip him by the hair once more, "Your whole plan is ridiculous. A fools errand. A waste of time, breath, and energy. Not only for yourself, but everyone involved." He hissed out, "You'd be more use on the dissection table. At the least then you would finally be of use. I could finally see where I went wrong with you."
He loomed above Thad, his hand outstretched mere centimeters away from the wide-eyed clone.
Thad couldn't do this anymore.
"...Craydl." The clone croaks out quietly, but it was enough.
The whir within the lab led to one final loud click, and President Thawne froze in his tracks, his arm still threateningly outstretched toward Thad.
In the next moment the appearance of the man flickered and reformed before transparency pervaded his ‘body’. Thawne was frozen before Thad with his expression twisted with self-satisfaction and cruelty as he got those last words in. Finally the program ceased in front of Thad and the false President Thawne disappeared from his sight. Slowly every aspect of the Earthgov laboratory began to dissipate, each element and fragment of data began breaking down in every section of the false laboratory, piece by piece until he was left alone in darkness and silence of his own lab.
“This concludes VR Simulation #64.” Craydl’s voice echoes out mechanically and monotonously throughout the lab, “Would...Would you like to restart the program, Thad?”
“…”
“…B-Bossman?” Craydl hesitated as his voice cut through the lab as Thad dropped the VR visor he had been wearing moments before onto the floor. He sat upon the floor silently, beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his face, the sound of his blood thrumming loudly in his ears as his heart beats with adrenaline and a pervasive fear.
Deep from his chest, and even deeper in his being Thad let out a guttural scream with his whole body, bending with the pain he felt that echoed throughout the lab till he ran out of breath. His body forces him into silence, and tears roll down his cheeks.
He had so much to do, so much to make up for, but still yet he couldn’t let go of the past.
He wanted to make amends, to move forward with his life, but the past would not let him go. Condemned to his missteps and mistakes and wrongdoings. He couldn’t take even a single step forward.
Not even within a world all of his own making.
If he couldn’t even a face a false version of his own father how could he face the man himself? He would be proving him right. That he was worthless. Worse than nothing. Only good for spare parts.
Thad mutters something the A.I. can’t make out.
“Boss?”A technoplasmic tendril reaches out toward his shoulder to give him a reassuring pat, to tell him that things were okay, that he didn't need to go through this again. The A.I. didn't want to watch him go through it again. Not again. Craydl begins to wrap his technoplasmic body around Thad's shoulders, comfortingly, enveloping him in a warm embrace.
But Thad shrugs him away.
“Again, Craydl!” He yells with a frantic intermingling of fear and pain upon his words as he swipes the visor from the floor and stands up.
“R-Right…Boss.” Craydl responds with clear worry in his voice as he watched his friend prepare once again and would again watch him go through this torment again and again and again unendingly until he could finally get it right. Until all those hopes and dreams he had as a child broke inside and never reformed again. Until would never let himself be used or manipulated by President Thawne again.
For all the steps forward Thad took, the more he tried to change, the harder it seemed to be for him.
But it would be worth it in the end. Wouldn't it?
Just to set even one of his mistakes right. It would be worth it.