[fic] Prompt response for sighofthings
Characters: Robin Rice, mentions of Rachel Dawes, Ruvin, Wyatt, and Romana.
Word Count: 472 -_-
Author's Note: Drabble fail, AGAIN. Not as bad as the last one.
"You don't know what it is like when you try, and you try, and you try, and you don't ever get there!"
No one knows what it's like. The only ones who could have any idea are vengeance angels, and they never last long. Rarely. They rarely last long. When he was sixteen, he was saved from killing himself. Every year (nearly fifty now) since has been an endless, daily struggle.
If he didn't care at all for life, if he didn't believe at all that he could one day experience happiness (true and pure and untouched by the anger), he would have died a long time ago. It's a belief that he has never been able to admit for fear it would make him weak, it would shatter to pieces like so many other things. Now he's felt that happiness (he was right) and he's the furthest emotion from it again, but he's still here. He's still alive.
He's not even entirely sure why except a woman taught him that life was precious and meaningful and worth hoping for as much as the world may heap darkness and tragedy against his shoulders, weighing him down. He's alive for Wyatt's research though he won't let the man prescribe him anything else. There are hours spent in a room with him running through all he knows about what he is, his feelings, what makes a difference, what stops them. He's still alive for Ruvin, too, who's hurting somewhere and he can't quite let himself die until he knows she can feel happiness again though he's convinced himself that he will never see her again either. And he's still alive because he is. Because Romana saved him, and he knows life is worth more than what can be thrown away by the decision of one man despite how many lives it might save in the process. No one can know what the future may hold. Yes, he realizes that at long last as much as he anticipates it all ending in blood and pain, he knows it might not be that way. He hopes it won't be or he'll have so much guilt that he'll be begging for proper punishment before he's finally killed.
When Rachel Dawes pressed her hand against him, she got a taste. He hasn't been off drugs in months, not since as long. He's afraid of what she'd feel if he ever saw her again and she touched him. It's one of the many reasons he stays away. No one else should have to know what that's like, to get enough of a taste of it to know for even a moment... the struggle of fighting daily with a monster that lies within ones heart, in every part of their body so that there's barely room for anything else, always on the edge, one sight, one remark, one scent away from breaking free and destroying all he's worked for all these years.
Word Count: 472 -_-
Author's Note: Drabble fail, AGAIN. Not as bad as the last one.
"You don't know what it is like when you try, and you try, and you try, and you don't ever get there!"
No one knows what it's like. The only ones who could have any idea are vengeance angels, and they never last long. Rarely. They rarely last long. When he was sixteen, he was saved from killing himself. Every year (nearly fifty now) since has been an endless, daily struggle.
If he didn't care at all for life, if he didn't believe at all that he could one day experience happiness (true and pure and untouched by the anger), he would have died a long time ago. It's a belief that he has never been able to admit for fear it would make him weak, it would shatter to pieces like so many other things. Now he's felt that happiness (he was right) and he's the furthest emotion from it again, but he's still here. He's still alive.
He's not even entirely sure why except a woman taught him that life was precious and meaningful and worth hoping for as much as the world may heap darkness and tragedy against his shoulders, weighing him down. He's alive for Wyatt's research though he won't let the man prescribe him anything else. There are hours spent in a room with him running through all he knows about what he is, his feelings, what makes a difference, what stops them. He's still alive for Ruvin, too, who's hurting somewhere and he can't quite let himself die until he knows she can feel happiness again though he's convinced himself that he will never see her again either. And he's still alive because he is. Because Romana saved him, and he knows life is worth more than what can be thrown away by the decision of one man despite how many lives it might save in the process. No one can know what the future may hold. Yes, he realizes that at long last as much as he anticipates it all ending in blood and pain, he knows it might not be that way. He hopes it won't be or he'll have so much guilt that he'll be begging for proper punishment before he's finally killed.
When Rachel Dawes pressed her hand against him, she got a taste. He hasn't been off drugs in months, not since as long. He's afraid of what she'd feel if he ever saw her again and she touched him. It's one of the many reasons he stays away. No one else should have to know what that's like, to get enough of a taste of it to know for even a moment... the struggle of fighting daily with a monster that lies within ones heart, in every part of their body so that there's barely room for anything else, always on the edge, one sight, one remark, one scent away from breaking free and destroying all he's worked for all these years.