![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elementof_riskThey say that fear and love cannot abide side by side, but I say that isn't so. For years, I only loved one person. She was more a parent to me than mine ever attempted to be, a mother to replace the one I never knew, a father to wipe away the memories of the one I had. She taught me to shoot, to drive, to steal, to kill, to live, to love and tried to remind me to laugh more. I loved her more than I had ever loved anyone before, for giving me a chance, for seeing something in me worth fighting for, worth training, worth using, even.
But I was terrified of her at the same time.
Her obsession drove her, away from family, away from friends. If she would betray her own daughter, her own husband, I knew there was nothing I could look for from her in the way of loyalty, no matter how much I tried to be to her. That element lingered, the lack of trust. She would sell me out when it suited her, and she did. She would sell anyone out to get to Rambaldi's truth, cross any line, go any distance, do anything, say anything, fight for anything.
It made her more dangerous than anyone realized, but more than my fear for myself at her hands, I truly was most afraid for her. And I was right.
But I was terrified of her at the same time.
Her obsession drove her, away from family, away from friends. If she would betray her own daughter, her own husband, I knew there was nothing I could look for from her in the way of loyalty, no matter how much I tried to be to her. That element lingered, the lack of trust. She would sell me out when it suited her, and she did. She would sell anyone out to get to Rambaldi's truth, cross any line, go any distance, do anything, say anything, fight for anything.
It made her more dangerous than anyone realized, but more than my fear for myself at her hands, I truly was most afraid for her. And I was right.
