Heart like a Lion-2 by Lynceus My name is Thomas Blake. I used to believe in good and evil. But as time went on, I could no longer tell the difference between light and shadow: everything had become shades of grey. It wasn't until I had lost everything that I learned how to live again.

Disclaimer: I make no claims to any character or image owned or under copyright by another party, nor do I intend on profiting in any way from their use. The Comics Retcon Universe concept is the creative property of Lilith Langtree.

I don't know how long I lay there, burning under the harsh African sun. I had to get into the shade or I would die.

Of course, the truth was, I was already dead. And had been for many years now.

I'd been born into wealth. I was handsome, intelligent, and wanted for nothing. I can't even say my parents were distant- sure, Dad worked a lot, but he was there as much as he could be, and he always kept his promises.

But somehow, as I entered adolescence, I became jaded. I took everything for granted. Nothing in my life seemed to have any meaning. If I wanted something, be it a new car, or a hot girlfriend, once I had it, it no longer mattered.

After Mom died, things between Dad and I became strained. He all but disowned me, but even at the lowest point, I never needed to work for anything.

Maybe things would have been different if he had been stricter with me. But I can't really blame him for how I ended up. I still hate him though.

He cost my my angel, after all.

-

It was chance that brought us together. I was rich, handsome, and a very bad boy. Irresistible to a lot of women. I never had to spend the night alone unless I wanted to. I was currently between girlfriends, so I decided to go hunting.

I don't even remember the name of the club where I met Amy- the moment I saw her, I knew that I'd come across someone special. She was dancing by herself, the lights of the club creating a sort of aura around her body.

Though she was a small girl, I could tell she was no child. Hell, she was gorgeous, but it wasn't her looks that I was attracted to. It was her freedom. She was so alive, so vibrant.

She'd also been the only girl I'd ever met who didn't seem overly impressed by me. She was nice about it, but it was apparent that to her, I was just another guy.

Of course, that meant I wanted her even more.

I don't know what set the old man off. When I told him about her at first, he was pleased with how I'd changed because of her influence. But about the time Catherine was born, something changed. He was suddenly convinced that I should leave Amy, and my daughter.

I refused, but Dad put all his influence to bear. He cut off my funds, made it so that neither of us could work, and tried every dirty trick in the book to separate us. So when he finally told me that if I left them, that they would be taken care of...

I was weak, and I gave in. I'm pretty sure Amy never forgave me.

It wasn't until after the old man's stroke that I found out he'd lied to me. He'd never given Amy anything. That, along with her death, hit me hard. I couldn't even face Karen- I had the company lawyers set up a hefty trust fund for Cathy, and I did what I did best.

I ran.

Drugs and alcohol had ruined my health, and I spent pretty much every waking hour looking for some distraction, some way to forget. That's how I ended up in Africa, hunting big game.

I'm a damned good shot, and something about holding another life in my hands, deciding whether it lived or died- I'd never had any kind of control over my own life, but now I was like some kind of Death God.

In that moment I pulled the trigger, I found release. But it never lasted.

In search of more danger, more challenge, I hired one shady 'guide' after another. Finally one of them robbed me and left me for dead on the open savannah, miles from any civilization.

-

I was going to die. And to be honest, I welcomed the end. I used to think I could succeed at anything, but in the end, I'd failed at everything. But then, I had this thought.

My daughter didn't even know what I looked like.

Somehow, that thought gave me the strength to drag my overweight carcass into the shade. I wanted to live. I had to live.

I'm still not sure how I survived. Finding water, scavenging for food, improvising weapons and traps. The heat burned away calories quickly. My pasty skin darkened, my flabby body turned hard and lean with muscle.

And then I saw them. A pride of lions, hunting the same prey I had been hunting. And they were so much better than I was. They stole my kills, and guarded theirs jealously. If I was going to live, I would have to beat them.

I watched from hiding, and saw how they hunted. Something primal awoke in me. This was the way to hunt! Not with guns, but up close and personal.

When I tell others the story, they think I'm full of bullshit, but it's all true. One day, I stole a kill from a lion, beating it to the punch. It came at me, and I rolled under it's leap, lashing out with a kick to it's ribs.

It roared at me, and I screamed back. “This is MY kill!”

The lion came at me again, and I had no choice. I couldn't dodge it forever- it was a killing machine, the product of eons of evolution, and I was but a weak human. So I sidestepped, and cut it open with my knife.

It fell down, and looked up at me with it's eye. I knew what it wanted, so I killed it.

I felt, rather than saw, the pride gather around me. I turned to face them. “My kill.”

And then I stepped back. “But I can share it.”

You'd think the lions would have attacked, but instead they crept up and began to feed. I'd been accepted into the pride. I wore a cloak I'd made from the hide of the lion I'd killed. I hadn't just been accepted- I was their leader.

I almost didn't leave, to be honest. I'd been transformed, changed, tempered and made better. But I owed it to my little girl. God, she'd be almost 13 now!

-

It was weird, being back in civilization, trading my lionskin for Armani, my knife for a cellular. I'd left the business in good hands, but the board was pretty nervous. I knew they would have been happier if I'd stayed dead. I could smell the fear on them.

It was a simple matter to turn that fear against them, to make them doubt themselves, and each other. The vote to make me CEO was unanimous.

So then I turned my attention to Cathy, or Cat, as she preferred to be called. But before I could make contact, Karen was killed, and Cat placed in the hospital.

It was all I could do to control the animal inside me. Someone had tried to kill my little girl! But I had to be rational. I had to find out who was responsible, why it had happened, and to make sure Cat would be alright.

Give a man enough money and he'll walk barefoot into hell. I had a lot of money, so pulling strings to get Dr. Stephen Strange to attend my daughter was simple enough. A little more money gave me regular updates on her condition.

The man who had killed Karen and Dr. Dawson wasn't easy to find. He'd flown out of the city that very night, to Cairo, using the name Akil Hamed. Once he'd gotten there, he'd simply vanished, and it was pretty certain that whoever he was, his name wasn't “Akil Hamed”.

Dr. Strange started to get very cagey with his files regarding my daughter, and I realized she could still be in danger. She'd also been spending a lot of time with a friend, Elle Damon, who seemed to have no past at all, and employed the services of a highly skilled professional.

Not that there was any hard information about Agatha Harkness, but it was obvious she'd been trained to be something more lethal than a nanny.

So I decided to send someone to collect Cat, when she was away from Miss Damon or her pet assassin. Stupid of me, I know. I should have done it myself- Hunt totally botched the job. But I didn't know how to confront her.

Still, hearing that Cat had disarmed Hunt, a former FBI sharpshooter, put a smile on my face.

-

So I did the only thing I could do- I went in person to Miss Damon's apartment. I knocked on the door, and Miss Harkness opened it. She was a tall young woman, only a few inches shorter than I was. I had a weight advantage on her, but I knew a fight between us could go either way. She looked at me coolly, and I sensed no fear at all.

“Thomas Blake. You should have come before now.”

I nodded. “Will she see me?”

Agatha shrugged. “Probably, but she's not here right now.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Interesting, the people I had watching this place say she never left.”

The woman almost smiled. “I think you pay them too much.”

“So where is she?”

Agatha shook her head. “No. I'll tell her you came. She'll come to you. Or not.”

“Fair enough.” I handed her my card. “Send her here.”

She took it from me, idly glancing at it, then she moved to go back into the apartment. I grabbed her arm, and her eyes actually widened. Just a little.

“Is she safe here?”

I couldn't see her other hand, but I was pretty sure she had a weapon in it. There was a long moment, as she decided whether or not to try and kill me. And the moment passed.

“I assure you, Mr. Blake, that if Elle asked me to take a bullet for your daughter, I would.”

I let her arm go. “Thank you- and my apologies for grabbing you like that.”

She did smile at me then. “I don't think Cat would like it if I killed you before she had a chance to meet you.” She held up the gun in her other hand.

I held up the knife I'd been holding. “I don't think she'd like it if I killed you either.”

Her smile widened, and she nodded to me. “I'm glad we understand each other. I'll tell her as soon as she gets back.”

I sniffed the air. “Something tells me that won't take very long. Goodbye then, Miss Harkness.”

-

Cat had been there the whole time, along with Miss Damon, but there was no need to force the issue. She would come to me, or she wouldn't. But either way, I wasn't going to fail her again.

No matter who I had to kill to protect her.