Inner monologue, own little world.

Alone on the balcony, Mithias was able to remove himself and take the time to regain his control in private. He mused. 

Hank was not dead, yet he was not himself. Taking away his suffering had freed him, yet now he seemed so much like all the rest of the selfish and powercrazed vampires out there, superficial and shallow, heartless and unabashed. He was driven toward whatever interested him with the innocence and carelessness of a child, such a dangerous combination. 

Mithias had killed vampires like that, and so had the old Hank. They had been a pair. Perhaps Mithias had been the broken one, always pressing himself to service, denying his own pleasure over some extremely grey moral code. Other vampires weren't like that. What did he truly want now anyway? Peace? Was it family still that drove him? Would he ever kill Hank, or would he ever have to?? No, not his own child. He shirked at the thought. But was it even Hank in there anymore? He would be deluding himself to continue to think so. Maybe Hank hadn't been strong enough for the change all along. Mithias should never have turned him, and granted it had been a rash action. But no, even still, he didn't regret making Hank into a vampire. If only for ten years, Hank had been a joy to have, to keep, to talk to, to watch, to grow with. With a child of his own to dote on, Mithias hadn't been so lonely. Temporarily, the void had been filled in Mithias' unlife, and that had made it easier to deal with his broken heart. 

The water sparkled on the beach, and Mithias lamented watching it. 

In a vast ocean,
A lone traveler can be lost.
Never coming back.

The waves crashed rhythmically a few times. 

Then there was Gabriel. The loss of Hank wasn't his father's fault. The Hank that Mithias had known would have died either way, in fact, he more or less chose to die when he gave Gabriel permission to change him. It was simply an inevitable course of events. Gabriel could have done anything to Hank at any time, yet he did not. He had only sincerely intended to help as requested. In the end, Mithias realized, everything that had happened had been his own fault. He had always been in control, -freak that he was. There was a lesson to be learned here, and Mithias intended to learn it humbly and honestly. he had done this to himself. He would endure the pain of loss, like anyone else, and grow from it. 

But for now, he would have to continue what he had always been doing before, watching over his own blood, only this time he was far more aware of the precarious tenacity of the future. Who knew what the hell this re-risen child would do. Broken or not, Hank still deserved a fair chance. 

And of course the world was still in turmoil. Mithias worried that even his father would eventually find himself unable to escape the purge. Gabriel didn't seem to care much at all for any of the other bloodlines in the past, but surely he couldn't continue to survive as the only one. Was Chantelle Black a part of his plans, or was he merely protecting her as she had said? 

Mithias listened in on the spoken part of Gabriel's speach from outside. 

"Of course, we'll change everything this time... There's an old friend of mine down at the hotel. You might want to go meet him. He's a real cheerful fellow, but make sure you crack the first joke. Breaks the ice, and he's a bit shy."

Mithias scoffed quietly to himself. He was not happy about the prospect of another war, especially not with his father participating. He liked it better when Gabriel was aloof and hopelessly acquiescent to human domination. To hear otherwise didn't bode well. Then Gabriel mentioned another friend in the hotel. Perhaps he really was creating a vampire sanctuary here in Hawaii. 

Mithias lingered at the balcony, his hands resting on the ledge looking out over the moonlit water. He felt collected enough to come back.