The old Hershel had died years ago. And Desmond himself was essentially dead too. There was only Descole now, Descole who was fueled solely on anger and revenge, a need to stop the organization that had taken so much from him.
Desmond reflects on his life, his decisions, and his brother.
Theodore didn’t remember.
Of course he didn’t, Desmond didn’t expect for him to. He had been so young when he was adopted, when they were separated. Yet Desmond couldn’t help but feel... disappointed. He never would’ve though he’d ever see his brother again, and now he had and it felt... strange. For the past two years he’s been doing so much harm to his brother, the person he gave his name, a chance at a happy life, up to.
The old Hershel had died years ago. And Desmond himself was essentially dead too. There was only Descole now, Descole who was fueled solely on anger and revenge, a need to stop the organization that had taken so much from him.
Nothing would ever match the violent rage Targent made him feel. All they did was take, take and break apart. In a way, they had killed him, and all that was left was the broken pieces of an angry man.
Theodore was simply just a playing piece in his plan. All of them were, really.
But he hated thinking about him like that. This was his brother he was talking about, and the memories they had made traveling on the Bostonius were probably the first happy memories Desmond had experienced in years. He knew it was pointless to get attached to it, his feelings were simply an interference in his plans. But... there was something that drew him to that sense of being apart of something. It was a nuisance, but Desmond cared about every single one of their little team.
So Theodore didn’t remember. But Desmond had made new memories with one Hershel Layton.