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Ratigan: Ah, a nice little rewrite.

Me: (sarcastic) Your confidence in me is so overwhelming.

Ratigan: Just doing my duty as your muse.

Disclaimer: Ratigan and Basil belong to Eve Titus and Disney, while all original characters belong to me.

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The rain pelted steadily against the window, a raging storm brewing outside on the cold October night. However, the approaching tempest did not seem to disturb Professor Broderick Ratigan, who clearly had other things on his mind. To be specific, it was the mental conversation he was holding...

Terann, you know he's not ready...

Neither were you at first...

But this is different! Broderick retorted, his gaze moving to the portrait of Estel on the mantle. This is a bigger responsibility than I ever had. I only wish I could be there for him. You know what he has to go through.

You will be there for him, if only in spirit. But he has to do this alone, at least at first.

But...

But what?

He's here.

"Broderick?"

He started in his seat as his wife, Eliza, moved into the room. "Oh, it's only you."

"Roderick, what is it?"

Roderick sighed. "It's Scarabus."

Her gaze sharpened. "I thought so. But why is he here?"

"He wants vengeance."

"But why?"

"I don't know... But I must face him one last time."

Eliza nodded sadly. "I'll move the children upstairs."

Roderick smiled wearily. "Well, we all knew this was going to happen eventually."

"I know. I'm just sorry it happened so soon..."

"So am I, but... This is how it must be."

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Minutes later, he calmly descended the stairs as if nothing had happened.

"Now where are you, traitor?"

"Traitor?" a voice purred. "Over half of my family murdered by vampire scum, and you call me a traitor?"

Roderick didn't even blink as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "I was wondering when you would arrive, Iago."

The silver-haired man at the door smirked. "Iago? After all you did to me, you expect this sudden turn of informality to save you?" He scoffed. "You're a fool."

"No, you're the fool. You cannot possibly comprehend the consequences of what will happen if you kill me."

"Father!"

Both men watched as the fourteen-year old boy darted down the staircase to stand by Roderick.

"Ah, so this is your son, James", Iago said, grinning wickedly.

"Leave him alone, Iago."

"Oh, I will", he said, sneering. In an instant, he strode over to James and backhanded the boy, throwing him across the room to slam into the wall, yelping in pain as he impacted.

"/JAMES!/" Roderick darted forward to grab the gun-

/BLAMBLAMBLAM/

"/NO!/" James screamed, his eyes wide with terror as Roderick's body slid limply to the floor.

Iago chuckled darkly, sliding the gun back into a pocket. "I suspect I'll be seeing you in the future, child."

Without another word, he turned and strode out of the door, apparently vanishing into the tempest.

"...James..."

The boy gasped. "F-Father?!" Carefully, he slowly crawled over to where his father sat.

"James... I'm sorry..."

"Why?" he asked, uncertain of what his father was saying.

"I-I failed you..."

"Failed... failed /me/? Come on, Father, don't talk like that..."

"Take care of your mother and sister. When I'm gone, they'll need protection..."

"Gone?! You can't mean..."

But the light was already fading from Roderick's eyes.

"Father?!"

But it was too late, as his head sank limply onto his chest, breathing his last.

"/FATHER!/"

Upstairs, Eliza could only listen to her son's keening, knowing her husband was dead. This was only the beginning...

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/1897/

Ratigan paused in his casual examination of the watch that had belonged to his father. Iago Scarabus would /pay/, and Ratigan would be the one to see to it himself...

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Ratigan: Well. That was... interesting.

Me: And it only gets better from here.

Ratigan: That's just your opinion...