Fic: Lines In The Sand
He’s all the vice and sin of the universe wrapped up in far too tempting package.
He’s a brutal reminder of the days when you lived for your own pleasures and had worlds at your fingertips.
And after the hell of a year you’ve had it would be so easy to just give in to his pretty words and throw yourself back into the glamorous life of the morally lacking.
But you’re not that person anymore. You don’t want to be that person anymore.
II
“So, what’s the motto? You’ve got to have a team motto. Let me guess, ‘We help the helpless’? ‘Death, murder, mayhem’? Hey, I know! ‘I wanna sex you up’!”
“Will you shut up?”
“Fine. You know, he never used to want me to be quiet. In fact he used to love to hear me scr-“
“It’s ‘The twenty-first century is when it all changes, and you gotta be ready’.”
“You’re kidding me. Oh, you’re actually serious?”
“Stop. Laughing.”
“Do you know what it means then?”
“Please, like your strapping hero here even knows what it means. I bet he just likes it because it sounds cool.”
“That’s not true, is it, Jack? Jack?”
“...”
III
He’s dangerous, and you don’t think your team really realises how treacherous he is.
You don’t think they realise how dangerous you used to be.
How ruinous you probably still are under all you’ve done, and all you are now.
IV
He was asking for it.
I mean, lecturing me about beauty, about being good. Who the fuck does he think he is?
So I showed him where to get off.
It’s just that in this case, off was the edge of a skyscraper.
My Jack was dead anyway- the person I killed was some bleeding heart stranger, waltzing around with illusions of being so fucking noble.
My Jack would probably have thanked me for it.
V
He asks to stay with sad eyes, and he’s as sincere as he ever is. (...It can’t end like this...You and me, all the things we’ve done...We’re the only two left...) Which, really, isn’t sincere at all.
For a moment you want to say yes and crush his mouth beneath yours.
You want to make him beg and bleed.
But you’ve drawn a line between yourself and the man you’ve spent over a hundred years trying to emulate.
Because he’s hurt your team.
And no one does that.
(How about that? I win.)
He’s a brutal reminder of the days when you lived for your own pleasures and had worlds at your fingertips.
And after the hell of a year you’ve had it would be so easy to just give in to his pretty words and throw yourself back into the glamorous life of the morally lacking.
But you’re not that person anymore. You don’t want to be that person anymore.
II
“So, what’s the motto? You’ve got to have a team motto. Let me guess, ‘We help the helpless’? ‘Death, murder, mayhem’? Hey, I know! ‘I wanna sex you up’!”
“Will you shut up?”
“Fine. You know, he never used to want me to be quiet. In fact he used to love to hear me scr-“
“It’s ‘The twenty-first century is when it all changes, and you gotta be ready’.”
“You’re kidding me. Oh, you’re actually serious?”
“Stop. Laughing.”
“Do you know what it means then?”
“Please, like your strapping hero here even knows what it means. I bet he just likes it because it sounds cool.”
“That’s not true, is it, Jack? Jack?”
“...”
III
He’s dangerous, and you don’t think your team really realises how treacherous he is.
You don’t think they realise how dangerous you used to be.
How ruinous you probably still are under all you’ve done, and all you are now.
IV
He was asking for it.
I mean, lecturing me about beauty, about being good. Who the fuck does he think he is?
So I showed him where to get off.
It’s just that in this case, off was the edge of a skyscraper.
My Jack was dead anyway- the person I killed was some bleeding heart stranger, waltzing around with illusions of being so fucking noble.
My Jack would probably have thanked me for it.
V
He asks to stay with sad eyes, and he’s as sincere as he ever is. (...It can’t end like this...You and me, all the things we’ve done...We’re the only two left...) Which, really, isn’t sincere at all.
For a moment you want to say yes and crush his mouth beneath yours.
You want to make him beg and bleed.
But you’ve drawn a line between yourself and the man you’ve spent over a hundred years trying to emulate.
Because he’s hurt your team.
And no one does that.
(How about that? I win.)