Inside, He's Screaming
Title: Inside, He's Screaming
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Victor Mancha, Johnny Gallo
Prompt: 46. Grateful
Word Count:
Rating: PG
Warnings: Implied character deaths.
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING.
Author's Notes: I was asked to write Victorious/Ricochet. It didn't quite turn out that way, but I hope you all enjoy my offering.
Victorious let the Yorkes woman crawl off to die, a triumphant smile on his perfect face. It looked odd with the tears leaking out from under his mask.
Inside, Victor Mancha was screaming. This wasn't right. This wasn't real. This wasn't him. He wasn't a monster. Any minute, he was going to wake up, and find this was all some horrible nightmare.
Eddie, I see him.
Are you in position to strike?
I've got a clear shot. Are you sure about this?
The signal's going right back to Ultron. We can disrupt the signal. Everyone deserves a second chance, Johnny.
What if it's not Ultron? What if it's all him?
Then we fry him.
"Victorious!" A disk went whizzing past his ear, drawing Victorious' attention to the man standing on a chunk of what used to be the Avengers Tower. His chin length white hair hung limply around his narrow face, his lips set in a grim line. Almost too fast for Victorious to follow, he flung three more of the disks.
Victorious blew them up with a wave of his hand. "And who are you supposed to be? Another hero?" He sneered, calling up the old girders to crush the annoying insect.
He lept away with the kind of grace and agility he hadn't seen since Spider-Man lost his legs, throwing more of the disks. Victorious revised his initial estimate of the man's age sharply downward. He moved fast. The white hair just made him look older than he was. "I'm no hero," he said, "just a Slinger."
Maybe one of those annoying Lehnsherrs. A new one seemed to pop up every couple of decades, and they were rather difficult to kill. Like roaches, really. "Is that supposed to mean something?" Victorious asked mockingly as the man bounced around, narrowly avoiding his attacks. He was good, like Daredevil before someone finally put a bullet in his brain. It was almost a shame to kill him. With all the heroes dead, this man could have been somebody. "You can't honestly think you can beat me."
"I don't have to," the man said. "I just have to keep you busy until..."
"Until I squish you like the insignificant insect you are?"
"Nope. Until this."
The first disk the Slinger had thrown smacked into the back of Victorious' neck, sending jolt after jolt into him while uploading the virus into his system.
ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR
Victor Mancha was on his back in the rubble, looking up at the white haired man who had set him free. "Who are you?" he whispered hoarsely.
The man gave him a sad look, pushing his hair out of his face as he crouched next to Victor. "Johnny Gallo."
Victor smiled weakly. "Johnny... you know what you have to do, right? You can't let him come back."
"I know. Close your eyes, kid."
Victor was still smiling as his world came to an end.
Johnny? Can you hear me? The disk went off. Did it work?
... yeah. He's gone.
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Victor Mancha, Johnny Gallo
Prompt: 46. Grateful
Word Count:
Rating: PG
Warnings: Implied character deaths.
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING.
Author's Notes: I was asked to write Victorious/Ricochet. It didn't quite turn out that way, but I hope you all enjoy my offering.
Victorious let the Yorkes woman crawl off to die, a triumphant smile on his perfect face. It looked odd with the tears leaking out from under his mask.
Inside, Victor Mancha was screaming. This wasn't right. This wasn't real. This wasn't him. He wasn't a monster. Any minute, he was going to wake up, and find this was all some horrible nightmare.
Eddie, I see him.
Are you in position to strike?
I've got a clear shot. Are you sure about this?
The signal's going right back to Ultron. We can disrupt the signal. Everyone deserves a second chance, Johnny.
What if it's not Ultron? What if it's all him?
Then we fry him.
"Victorious!" A disk went whizzing past his ear, drawing Victorious' attention to the man standing on a chunk of what used to be the Avengers Tower. His chin length white hair hung limply around his narrow face, his lips set in a grim line. Almost too fast for Victorious to follow, he flung three more of the disks.
Victorious blew them up with a wave of his hand. "And who are you supposed to be? Another hero?" He sneered, calling up the old girders to crush the annoying insect.
He lept away with the kind of grace and agility he hadn't seen since Spider-Man lost his legs, throwing more of the disks. Victorious revised his initial estimate of the man's age sharply downward. He moved fast. The white hair just made him look older than he was. "I'm no hero," he said, "just a Slinger."
Maybe one of those annoying Lehnsherrs. A new one seemed to pop up every couple of decades, and they were rather difficult to kill. Like roaches, really. "Is that supposed to mean something?" Victorious asked mockingly as the man bounced around, narrowly avoiding his attacks. He was good, like Daredevil before someone finally put a bullet in his brain. It was almost a shame to kill him. With all the heroes dead, this man could have been somebody. "You can't honestly think you can beat me."
"I don't have to," the man said. "I just have to keep you busy until..."
"Until I squish you like the insignificant insect you are?"
"Nope. Until this."
The first disk the Slinger had thrown smacked into the back of Victorious' neck, sending jolt after jolt into him while uploading the virus into his system.
ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR
Victor Mancha was on his back in the rubble, looking up at the white haired man who had set him free. "Who are you?" he whispered hoarsely.
The man gave him a sad look, pushing his hair out of his face as he crouched next to Victor. "Johnny Gallo."
Victor smiled weakly. "Johnny... you know what you have to do, right? You can't let him come back."
"I know. Close your eyes, kid."
Victor was still smiling as his world came to an end.
Johnny? Can you hear me? The disk went off. Did it work?
... yeah. He's gone.