If only his mental strength had been stronger, even if just by a little bit.
Title: Trigger Therapy
Fandom: Gunsmith Cats
Characters: Rally Vincent, May Hopkins
Wordcount/Rating: 288 / PG
Summary: Rally works out some traumas with a 9 millimeter therapy plan.
Notes: SPOILERS for up to the end of volume 8 of the manga (“Mister V”), and the end of the Goldie arc. Also, um, hello. ^_^;; My apologies for the lack of beta; concrit would be very much appreciated.
If only his mental strength had been stronger, even if just by a little bit.
Rally raises her gun, lines up the sight, and empties the magazine. She pops it out and replaces it.
If only he hadn't trusted what she was saying. Hadn't he at least heard of Goldie's reputation? Couldn't he have told, just by looking at her, that she was dangerous?
Rally sights down the barrel and takes a deep breath. She holds it, waits, then exhales a stream of bullets. She reaches for a fresh magazine.
She said what he was afraid to hear. He was so damn scared of it, all he needed was for someone to confirm it, and then he believed it. He was afraid I would hate him. Damnit, Daddy, when did you become such a god-damned idiot?
The center of the target is all punched out, tattered lace at the edges of the bullseye, and Rally's still firing.
I love you, Daddy, jesus. You didn't have to do it alone. You never had to do it alone. I would’ve done anything for you. I did.
The hammer clicks down on the spent magazine.
Rally lowers her arms and pulls off her safety glasses. She eyes what’s left of the target, the silence ringing after so much shooting for so long. She has to clear her throat of tiny powder specks before she can speak. "Maybe-- if I at least liked women, right? Maybe then it would've been-- easier."
May sighs, the first sound she's made, and pushes herself off the back wall. She untangles Rally’s fingers from the gun and pulls it away, sliding the empty magazine out. She places the gun down carefully and mutters, "Nah. It wouldn’t."
Fandom: Gunsmith Cats
Characters: Rally Vincent, May Hopkins
Wordcount/Rating: 288 / PG
Summary: Rally works out some traumas with a 9 millimeter therapy plan.
Notes: SPOILERS for up to the end of volume 8 of the manga (“Mister V”), and the end of the Goldie arc. Also, um, hello. ^_^;; My apologies for the lack of beta; concrit would be very much appreciated.
If only his mental strength had been stronger, even if just by a little bit.
Rally raises her gun, lines up the sight, and empties the magazine. She pops it out and replaces it.
If only he hadn't trusted what she was saying. Hadn't he at least heard of Goldie's reputation? Couldn't he have told, just by looking at her, that she was dangerous?
Rally sights down the barrel and takes a deep breath. She holds it, waits, then exhales a stream of bullets. She reaches for a fresh magazine.
She said what he was afraid to hear. He was so damn scared of it, all he needed was for someone to confirm it, and then he believed it. He was afraid I would hate him. Damnit, Daddy, when did you become such a god-damned idiot?
The center of the target is all punched out, tattered lace at the edges of the bullseye, and Rally's still firing.
I love you, Daddy, jesus. You didn't have to do it alone. You never had to do it alone. I would’ve done anything for you. I did.
The hammer clicks down on the spent magazine.
Rally lowers her arms and pulls off her safety glasses. She eyes what’s left of the target, the silence ringing after so much shooting for so long. She has to clear her throat of tiny powder specks before she can speak. "Maybe-- if I at least liked women, right? Maybe then it would've been-- easier."
May sighs, the first sound she's made, and pushes herself off the back wall. She untangles Rally’s fingers from the gun and pulls it away, sliding the empty magazine out. She places the gun down carefully and mutters, "Nah. It wouldn’t."