You don't scare me

Blaine was back at this ICU window for the second time today, as the sun began to fall outside. 

He watched Sullivan holding Ariel’s hand, sitting beside her unconscious body and staring at her.

A stranger would be moved at the sight, at the compassionate, devoted husband. 

But Blaine was not, because this man was none of that. If not, he would not have the time to plan an assassination while his wife was ill, or connive to steal another man’s son.

He watched him for a few seconds before he raised his hand and knocked on the glass. 

Sullivan turned immediately, but frowned when he saw him.

Blaine nodded, and began to walk away. 

He had taken some steps when he heard the door open, and soon, Sullivan was walking behind him.

“What the hell is this?” The man breathed heavily behind him.

Blaine smiled darkly, although Sullivan could not see him. 

He did not look back but continued walking till they were in a quiet place, then he turned around with his gun high.

Sullivan stepped back, clearly surprised, instinctively raising his hand in surrender, then anger jumped into his eyes and he barked.

“What do you think you are doing, Tucker?”

“You thought it was cool, right? The plan was so perfect to take me out, so you no longer have a competition to show you how incompetent you are.”

“You sound drunk,” Sullivan said, but his body language was not as dismissive as his voice was. 

He was still standing stiffly.

“My child was in that car. A child, you gassed a car you knew a child was in,” Blaine said, his voice coming out hurt, although he would have wished otherwise. 

But he did not care very much. There was no need to act dignified and masculine for the benefit of an animal like Sullivan.

“What’s the big deal? I only used the same gas your wife used on my wife.” Sullivan shrugged. “I guess children have to pay for the sins of their parents.”

Blaine felt his whole body go weak. 

That gas had been poisonous? The same fatal thing that almost killed Ariel and the minister’s wife?

“Did he know?” Blaine was watching Sullivan in disbelief.

“What?’

“Did the chauffeur, your plant, know?" Blaine yelled, and from the way the pulse on Sullivan's head beat, he confirmed his suspicion. 

The chauffeur was really a plant, and had been in on all this. But he realized something new too. The man had not had any idea that he would be killed in the ambush.

Sullivan wanted to kill him to seal all loose ends when the police began to investigate Blaine’s murder.

“You are a horrible human,” Blaine said, wondering how anyone could do that to his own family member.

“Put that gun away. We both know you cannot kill me,” Sullivan said, but he did not drop his hands that were still raised high.

“You are right. I cannot get away with your murder, and I am not willing to spend jail time away from my children paying for your worthless life.” 

“Ophelia’s pregnant again? Thats’s fast work.”

“But I will take something just as important as your life,” Blaine continued like he had not heard him, and began to lower his gun.

He kept his gun trained on Sullivan's groin as the man’s eyes widened in terror at what was about to happen. 

He was not close enough to dive for the gun.

“I will be doing the world a favor by making sure you do not populate it with your evil spuns.”

“Do you know what you are doing, Tucker?” Sullivan tried to sound firm, but his voice shook a little just beneath the surface.

“You’re scared? You did not mind killing my daughter. No child deserves to have a man like you for a father.”

“If you hurt me, your whole family will be run out of the country. Do you realize that, you barbarian?” Sullivan finally yelled.

“It does not matter. You will forever live with what I have done to you.” Blaine cracked his gun, and Sullivan flinched.

“I have some questions. Depending on how much I like your answer, I might decide not to turn you into a eunuch after all.”

Sullivan was looking at him warily without a word.

“Who is Oliver?” 

Sullivan started so badly his left knee bent in. 

Blaine smiled. 

So it was true after all. His son was alive and they both planned to keep him away. Why?

Sullivan regained composure and remained silent. 

“I guess I have my answer already. Now where is my son?”

“Who said anything about him being your son?” Sullivan shot out hotly.

“So you do agree if I went to your house right now, I would meet an Oliver who is just a little older than one year old.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth. I understand you are hurt and so your brain is weaving events that never happened. Stay away from my family, and you’ll never have to go through this again."

Blaine fired, shooting just between his legs. 

Sullivan's legs shook, and he fell to his knees before he finally realized he had not been shot, that it had merely been a warning. 

He dived for Blaine’s calves and they both went crashing down. 

They struggled with the gun, and finally both their guards finally seemed to have awoken from whatever slumber they had been in, and realized that their bosses were missing and could be in danger.

They ran in their direction. 

As Tucker and Sullivan tore at each other, vicious and impatient to badly hurt the other person, their guards descended on them and, after a few minutes of struggle, managed to tear both men apart. 

They stood up, puffing, and breathing hard.

“If you don’t stay away from my wife, you are dead meat.” Sullivan fired angrily.

“Since you are so pressed about this, that is exactly what I will not do.” Blaine shot back. “I will take both her and my son away from you, you thief.”

“I smell a corpse.” Sullivan threw his head back to sniff the air like a hound. “Can you smell it?” 

His guards looked between themselves in confusion.

“It smells so rotten, I know it’s a Tucker.” Sullivan spat.

“You don’t scare me, Sullivan.” Blaine smiled slowly, shrugging his guards off and brushing his shirt down. “My grandfather outlived your thieving grandfather and father. I will be at your funeral to spit in your grave.”