FIC: Fitting in (Donna, PG)
Title: Fitting in
Word Count: 200.
Character: Donna.
Rating: PG.
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: 2x07 - Clean Hands.
Summary: Shooting a cop wasn't doing justice.
Written for: flashpoint_sru, prompt #4 Regret. Yes, I'm very much into that prompt at the moment, hehe.
Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint.
Beta: The great lillyg.
Fitting in
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Shooting a cop wasn’t doing justice, no matter what. There were other options but she hadn’t even considered them, she had just pulled the trigger and now she had to pretend her hands were clean and that the blood had somehow vanished.
She discarded her clothes and approached the shower. Water hit her body hard. Fitting in, she was good at it. She could blend with terrorists, put up the character of a pretty good meth junkie. She could even say what the bad guys expected her to say and play to be out of control.
The problem was that the more days passed by, the more she seemed to really have embraced the idea she’d picked up. Sometimes she remembered what she’d said, the promises she’d made, the many plans she’d contributed to create… and she found herself believing in.
Maybe that part was stuck with her and kept deciding her actions. Maybe she’s joined the SRU to try to fix what she couldn’t really erase from her head. Perhaps her judgment was seriously twisted now and when she’d killed Agent Semple, she’d felt just a bit of adrenaline, a bit of relief.
Greg’s eyes on her, his support… it didn’t matter that much to her. He couldn’t really understand… Even if Wordy tried to keep up with her, she doubted he’d ever felt the same way she did. Everyone said that occasional deaths were part of the job, but for a moment, Donna was sure that she deserved the looks Sam gave her when she was around.
Tears starting rolling down her face as it was impossible to turn back time. She could never change the past. It was already done. She’d have to learn to live with every regret. Forever.
The End.
Word Count: 200.
Character: Donna.
Rating: PG.
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: 2x07 - Clean Hands.
Summary: Shooting a cop wasn't doing justice.
Written for: flashpoint_sru, prompt #4 Regret. Yes, I'm very much into that prompt at the moment, hehe.
Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint.
Beta: The great lillyg.
Fitting in
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Shooting a cop wasn’t doing justice, no matter what. There were other options but she hadn’t even considered them, she had just pulled the trigger and now she had to pretend her hands were clean and that the blood had somehow vanished.
She discarded her clothes and approached the shower. Water hit her body hard. Fitting in, she was good at it. She could blend with terrorists, put up the character of a pretty good meth junkie. She could even say what the bad guys expected her to say and play to be out of control.
The problem was that the more days passed by, the more she seemed to really have embraced the idea she’d picked up. Sometimes she remembered what she’d said, the promises she’d made, the many plans she’d contributed to create… and she found herself believing in.
Maybe that part was stuck with her and kept deciding her actions. Maybe she’s joined the SRU to try to fix what she couldn’t really erase from her head. Perhaps her judgment was seriously twisted now and when she’d killed Agent Semple, she’d felt just a bit of adrenaline, a bit of relief.
Greg’s eyes on her, his support… it didn’t matter that much to her. He couldn’t really understand… Even if Wordy tried to keep up with her, she doubted he’d ever felt the same way she did. Everyone said that occasional deaths were part of the job, but for a moment, Donna was sure that she deserved the looks Sam gave her when she was around.
Tears starting rolling down her face as it was impossible to turn back time. She could never change the past. It was already done. She’d have to learn to live with every regret. Forever.
The End.