Fic: Behind Red Eyes
Fandom: X-Men
Word count: 382
Pairing: N/A
Summary: Quiet reflection isn't really his thing, but he's staring death in the face, and he just wants to make sure his friends are safe. Stay safe.
There’s not much he can say.
Okay, that’s technically a lie; he says a lot. He says everything and anything, he jokes and he laughs, he trash talks and swaggers his way down the street and when it comes down to it, there’s very little he says about himself. There’s very little he does that isn’t locked up inside his own reasons, his own head, his own demons.
He’s not had it the hardest, not in the least. Jubilee, that child, that glorious young woman who grew up feeling unwanted - beautiful ‘Ro, on her own and having no one - even Rogue, Rogue, who lost her family and was torn away from her center and thrust into a world that would never understand…
So he’s not had it the hardest, not by a long shot. But sometimes he wishes he could have something of his own, some triumph that wasn’t built on the backs of others, something that he made because it was good to do, not because it was necessary, because he had to, because others asked him to.
It’s not like he’s poor, but he’s not rich from his own hard work - unless you counted thieving as hard work. It’s not even like he’s kept his money because he’s smart; he’s hired good accountants, made the most of his money in investments that would work.
But he has his own lines he will not cross, his own strict code he follows, no matter what, and for once he hopes it’s enough, he hopes it makes up for his mistakes, for the deaths on his conscience and his hands.
He kneels before the statue of Mary, whispering under his breath, fingers gripping the rosary beads. He was never one for religion, not really, and he isn’t really starting now. No, he’s hoping that Jubilee comes out of this alright, that everyone comes out of this fine, because what he’s about to do is a suicide run, and he knows it, and they know it, but no one will stop him because he’s the thief, he’s the rake, he’s the man that left them to hang and looked after himself first.
They don’t know him, and they don’t know who he is, and those thoughts are hollow as he prepares himself to die.
Word count: 382
Pairing: N/A
Summary: Quiet reflection isn't really his thing, but he's staring death in the face, and he just wants to make sure his friends are safe. Stay safe.
There’s not much he can say.
Okay, that’s technically a lie; he says a lot. He says everything and anything, he jokes and he laughs, he trash talks and swaggers his way down the street and when it comes down to it, there’s very little he says about himself. There’s very little he does that isn’t locked up inside his own reasons, his own head, his own demons.
He’s not had it the hardest, not in the least. Jubilee, that child, that glorious young woman who grew up feeling unwanted - beautiful ‘Ro, on her own and having no one - even Rogue, Rogue, who lost her family and was torn away from her center and thrust into a world that would never understand…
So he’s not had it the hardest, not by a long shot. But sometimes he wishes he could have something of his own, some triumph that wasn’t built on the backs of others, something that he made because it was good to do, not because it was necessary, because he had to, because others asked him to.
It’s not like he’s poor, but he’s not rich from his own hard work - unless you counted thieving as hard work. It’s not even like he’s kept his money because he’s smart; he’s hired good accountants, made the most of his money in investments that would work.
But he has his own lines he will not cross, his own strict code he follows, no matter what, and for once he hopes it’s enough, he hopes it makes up for his mistakes, for the deaths on his conscience and his hands.
He kneels before the statue of Mary, whispering under his breath, fingers gripping the rosary beads. He was never one for religion, not really, and he isn’t really starting now. No, he’s hoping that Jubilee comes out of this alright, that everyone comes out of this fine, because what he’s about to do is a suicide run, and he knows it, and they know it, but no one will stop him because he’s the thief, he’s the rake, he’s the man that left them to hang and looked after himself first.
They don’t know him, and they don’t know who he is, and those thoughts are hollow as he prepares himself to die.