Febuwhumpday9 - Tumblr Posts

I'll Always Find You

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Febuwhump Prompt - Kidnapped

Prompt - ‘Some things you don't have to promise. You just do.’

The city lights blurred together as you sat in the car, unsure exactly how you ended up there, unsure how you had let Karen talk you into heading upstate with her and Ben. She hadn’t told you much, told Ben even less from the sounds of it, but you knew it involved Fisk and that was enough for you.

Ever since that man had come onto the scene it felt like everything around you had started falling apart. Matt had become distant, everytime Fisk’s name was brought up he’d turn away from the conversation and shut himself off. You knew something was wrong with him, hell it didn’t take a genius to piece that together what with all the bruises and cuts and the sneaking around.

Maybe that’s why it hadn’t taken much convincing on Karen’s half to get you to tag along to some care facility.

Meeting Fisk’s mom wasn’t what you had expected from the visit though, neither was finding out that Fisk had murdered his own father but you knew the information was useless, whilst Karen excitedly chattered on about how this was the edge you needed to bring Fisk down you sat in the back of the car knowing full well the information from an old woman with dementia was unusable.

That didn’t mean you were going to give up but you knew that getting anything on Fisk wouldn’t be legal and as much as you loved Matt and Foggy you didn’t believe in their plan to take fisk down using the law. It was shockingly easy to find the right people hanging around in shady areas, even easier to get them talking, though the firm of Nelson and Murdock would definitely be seeing an influx of criminals seeking their promised legal representation.

You already knew a fair bit about Fisk from what Ben had collected with the help of the Man in the Mask and even though the people you had spoken to tonight hadn’t given much new information, they had fit a few of the missing pieces together for you.

Night had fallen, the streets of Hell’s Kitchen felt eerily silent as you made your way through them. On the walk back to your apartment you frowned but resisted the urge to turn around when it felt like somebody was following you.

You took a deep breath in an attempt to control your breathing before making a detour and decided to head to Matt’s apartment instead, it was closer than yours and you knew he wouldn’t mind you showing up, especially if he knew you didn’t feel safe.

As you walked you pulled your phone out of your pocket as casually as you could and typed a text to Matt, if you were being followed you didn’t want them to know you were onto them.

I think somebody is following me - five minutes from your apartment.

You hadn’t passed a single person and nothing seemed out of place but yet you couldn’t push the feeling of being watched away and practically melted in relief as you ran across the street over to Matt’s building.

Just as you grabbed the door handle you let out a hiss of pain as you felt yourself being pressed against the door, somebody grabbing your arm and bending it painfully behind your back before placing a gun on the small of your back.

“Let’s take a drive,” A voice said in your ear before you were dragged back and a piece of white cloth was being held to your mouth and try as you might all you could do was breathe it in.

You didn’t know how much time had passed from you being drugged to waking up though you had yet to open your eyes, trying your best to figure out your surroundings without alerting anybody who was in the room that you were awake. It was impossible though, the room was silent, no groans of pipes, no echos for you to try and figure out what size room you were in.

Finally you opened your eyes, blinking harshly against the sudden dizziness.

“You’re awake,” A steady voice said from opposite you causing you to pry your eyes open to see the man who had come to Nelson and Murdock however long ago, the man you now knew to be Fisk’s right hand man.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, trying to show you weren’t scared but not doing a great job hiding it, desperately hoping Matt had gotten your text and realised something had happened.

“You’ve been very,” Wesley said, trailing off with a wave of his hand, “troublesome regarding my employers- excuse me Mr Fisk’s cause.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at that, long nights researching into Fisk, getting files that weren’t exactly legal and noticing money trails, hell if Karen hadn’t found those files on his mom first it was only a matter of time before you found them yourself.

“Can’t say I’m disappointed to learn that.” You told him smugly, moving your hands against the restraints tying you to the chair.

“No, I didn’t suppose you would be.” Wesley told you, “You realise there isn’t a version of events where you leave this room, don’t you?”

You chuckled to hide your fear because though he didn’t look like much there was a calm in Wesley’s eyes that set you on edge. Fisk trusted this man for a reason and you really didn’t want to find out just how far Wesley would go to protect Fisk.

Come on, Matt, you begged silently, not exactly sure what Matt could do to help but knowing he was your only way out of this situation.

“I like my chances.” You told him boredly, desperately shoving your fear and anxiety away.

Wesley chuckled at you, he had to admit you were pretty convincing but he could see the terror you were trying so hard to hide. He watched as your eyes widened, barely noticeable but he was watching closely, as he pulled a gun and placed it on the table, watching you look from it to him.

“Let’s have a chat, shall we?”

Matt had finally finished convincing Melvin to make him a suit, promising protection he hoped he could keep before he finally made his way home, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. It didn’t take long before he was entering his apartment from the rooftop entrance and pulling the mask off.

He grabbed his phone from the bedside table where he had left it to charge before heading out in the mask and clicked through it, sitting on the bed and having a text message read aloud to him.

Y/N, 11:42PM, I think somebody is following me - five minutes from your apartment.

Matt felt his heart stutter as he practically smashed his hand on the talking clock on the table, his heart practically stopping when the clock told him it was currently 12:30 AM.

“No, no,” Matt said, standing up with a shake of his head as he wracked his brain for where you could be and hated that he was coming up empty.

Since the Fisk business the two of you had drifted apart and Matt took full responsibility for that. He knew Foggy was right, knew you deserved to know about the Mask but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you and now you were gone.

“Foggy,” he said into the phone, desperately hoping his friend had any information.

“Matt, wha’time is it?” Foggy asked groggily, squinting his eyes closed as he tried to wake himself up.

“Where has Y/N been the last few nights?” He asked.

“Y/N, I don’t know man, um-” Foggy began but Matt cut him off.

“Think Foggy!” He snapped, feeling bad but also more worried about you than anything.

“Matt, calm down, tell me what’s going on.” Foggy said calmly, sitting up as he did.

“Y/N’s gone, Foggy, and I don’t know where.” Matt told him, breathing unsteadily as he paced the room.

“Shit,” Foggy cursed, suddenly feeling more awake, “Um, ok, well I know her and Karen went somewhere the other day but Karen didn’t tell me where and I thought it was odd because you know they don’t get on but I figured maybe they were-” Foggy told him, rambling slightly.

“Foggy,” Matt cut him off, “She was with Karen?”

“Yeah, crap you think they did something to piss Fisk off?” Foggy asked in fear, knowing how determined the two of you were to get something on Fisk.

“Yeah I do,” Matt said, fear and rage running through him, “You should go to Karen, make sure she’s safe.”

“What will you do?” Foggy asked, already moving off the bed and throwing some shoes on.

“I’m going to get Y/N back.” Matt said in a cold, determined tone.

“So who were the people you took on your little adventure?” Wesley asked calmly.

You swallowed again, there was little doubt in your mind that Wesley knew exactly who had visited Fisk’s mom but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of confirming it.

“It was just me,” You told him, easily lying with a shrug, enjoying the way his face darkened for a second before falling back to its neutral position.

“Yes, well, Mrs Vistain remembers you which is rather surprising considering her illness.” Wesley said with a sympathetic nod, “she also remembers the pretty blond lady and a man.”

“I was the only one who had the pleasure of meeting her,” You said, fighting back a smile, “You know how it is, memories get muddled around and she thinks she remembers more people than there were.”

Wesley chuckled as he brought his hand to the gun, toying with it as he looked at you. You took a steadying breath as you began to twist your wrists against the restraints, trying to find a way to slip out of them.

Then all you had to do was grab the gun even though the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

“She was quite sure, actually,” Wesley said, “I’d take a guess that you were there with a Ms Karen Page and Mr Ben Urich, am I correct?”

You smiled at him, suppressing a wince as your wrist cut against the restraints.

“I assure you, I don’t go anywhere with Karen Page and as for Mr Urich was it? Well I’m afraid I’m not acquainted with him but I do know of his work, I was especially fond of his piece on Union Allied.” You told him, watching as he shifted in his seat, hating that he wasn’t getting what he wanted out of you.

“Well as a precaution I’ve already had them dealt with.” You felt your blood run cold at that, not sure if it was just a bluff or whether Karen and Ben really were dead.

“What do you want with me, Mr Wesley?” You asked, shifting in your seat and feeling blood trickle from your wrists.

“What do I want?” He asked back, raising an eyebrow at you.

“You said yourself that I don’t leave this room alive and yet here I am, still alive. I’d be dead if you didn’t want something, so tell me what do you want?”

You didn’t know how long you’d been here now but you knew you didn’t have much time left before Wesley realised that you weren’t giving him whatever he needed. You needed to buy yourself time, time for Matt to do something from the outside and time for you to free yourself from the restraints and find a way out of here.

“I did say you won’t leave this room alive but perhaps that wasn’t true. You’re determined, skilled and you could be a worthy ally.” Wesley told you and this time you couldn’t control your facial expressions as you raised your eyebrows at him with a scoff before realisation set on your face.

“Fisk doesn’t know,” You said with a laugh, “you haven’t told him I went to see his mom.” It wasn’t a question and you watched as Wesley's eyes narrowed as you laughed again in disbelief.

“He doesn’t know you’re here.” You realised and you fought not to let your eyes flicker over to where Wesley had left the gun on the table again.

You rotated your wrists, feeling the blood that was rushing out of the cuts, almost got it.

“He does not,” Wesley forced out through a fake smile. “And he doesn’t have to know you were involved, should you agree.”

“You want me to work for that man? The man who wants to see Hell’s Kitchen, the real Hell’s Kitchen, burn to the ground? I think I’ll take a pass on that offer.” You said, trying to keep the pain off your face as you pulled at your wrist, feeling whatever was holding them to the chair cut deeply into your hand, just below your thumbs.

“Mr Fisk loves this city,” Wesley told you, “Me, I don’t care for it much though, the crush of the unwashed garbage stacked on the sidewalk, the air that seems to adhere to your skin, the layer of filth you can never completely wash away but Mr Fisk he loves this city and I would do anything to help him accomplish his goals. The only thing that comes close to his love of this city is perhaps the love he has for his mother. So I will give you one final chance, pick a side.”

As Wesley was talking, distracting himself, you bit your lip and with a harsh tug managed to free your hands. They bled and ached but you knew you had one chance and you couldn’t mess this up.

As his speech came to an end you quickly reached out and grabbed the gun, aiming it at him, pushing yourself out of the chair and standing up, looking around the room without taking your eyes off of the man opposite you who looked shocked before he relaxed his face.

“You really believe I’d bring a loaded gun in here?” He asked you with a raised eyebrow.

You jutted your chin out as you clicked the safety off, fingers on the trigger.

“Yeah, I really do.” You said, tone hard as you swallowed around the lump in your throat trying not to show him how scared you are.

“I promise you, Y/N, there are no bullets in that weapon so you might as well just drop it,” Wesley told you, trying to look bored.

“Not happening,” you told him with a huff of laughter, taking a step away from the table and watching as he went to stand. “One move and I pull the trigger.”

Matt lost count of how many people he’d punched and threatened that night, becoming more and more desperate as the minutes ticked by. Eventually he found somebody, who knew somebody who heard about a place Fisk had.

Matt practically flew over to the location, bounding across roofs and leaping over gates and a few blocks away he heard a voice causing him to pause and tilt his head as he listened to the words.

“I did say you won’t leave this room alive but perhaps that wasn’t true. You’re determined, skilled and you could be a worthy ally.” No doubt that was Wesley, Fisk’s right hand man.

Matt felt the fury coursing through his veins as he went to move again but was frozen in place as he heard you.

“Fisk doesn’t know,” He heard you say in disbelief before you laughed, “you haven’t told him I went to see his mom.”

You’d gone to see Fisk’s mom? Matt finally started moving again, quicker than ever as he thought about all the ways he was going to kill you himself once he finally got you back.

As he ran across rooftops he continued listening to your conversation, fear spreading through him, scared Wesley would kill you at any moment, terrified he’d be too late.

Just as he made his way down the fire escape he heard the sound of the safety clicking off a gun and felt his blood run cold. He quickly but quietly made his way over to a window, climbing through it and making his way over to the only door in the room, thankful that there were only two heartbeats.

“One move and I pull the trigger.”

Wesley clearly wasn’t afraid as he stood up and took a step towards you.

Matt was quicker though and had Wesley on the floor just before you pulled the trigger, once, twice, three times. He didn’t look over to you as he made quick work of punching Wesley several more times than needed in order to knock him out and only then did he stand and turn to you.

You were still standing there with the gun raised, both hands clutching it. You felt like all the blood had drained from your face as tears filled your eyes and you let out a panting breath as you stared ahead, not even noticing the Man in the Mask until he was in front of you and placing his hands over yours.

“Hey,” He said, soft and low, “You didn’t kill him.”

Matt felt his heart ache as he listened to you gasp for breath, your heart beating so fast Matt was worried it’d be right out of your chest. He heard you choke on a sob as the tears fell down your face uncontrollably and he could smell the blood from your wrists.

“Look at him, Y/N/N, you didn’t kill him.”

You did as the Mask said, looking over at him and choking out a relieved sob as you let the man take the gun out of your hands slowly and placed it on the table before he turned back to you and pulled you into his chest, thoughts of secret identities out of the window as he felt you against him, sobbing into his chest.

“You’re good, I’ve got you Y/N, you did good.” He continued to murmur praise until you had your breathing under control and pushed away from him to rub your eyes and you sniffed.

“You ok?” He asked softly.

But you didn’t answer. Instead you looked up at him with furrowed brows and calculating eyes, tilting your head slightly because even without the Man in the Mask using your name, how many times had you been held against that chest, how many nights had you spent curled up against that chest?

Your mouth opened with a silent gasp as you looked up at him in disbelief before you lifted your hands, grimacing at the blood caking your wrists and fingers before you rested them on the edge of the mask.

Matt tensed, his own hands coming up to rest on your arms, not wanting to touch your wrists. He cursed himself for not being more careful, cursed himself for completely disregarding his identity but you were safe and that had been the most important thought in his head.

He felt you shift under him and he let you pull the mask off of his face, listened to you huff of disbelief as you stared up at him without saying anything. Moments passing in silence before Matt spoke.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” He began but you cut him off by wrapping your arms around him, tighter than you had before and began sobbing into his chest again.

Matt froze, unsure of what was happening because out of all the outcomes he had pictured over you finding out he was the Man in the Mask this reaction was never one of them.

“I knew you’d find me.” You whispered against his chest and Matt’s heart fluttered at the words that were spoken with such sincerity.

“I always will.” He promised as he let his hand come up to rest on the back of your head, holding you close until you had calmed down again. “We have to get out of here.” He told you as he gestured towards Wesley.

“Thank you for getting here in time.” You told him quietly and Matt had no words for that, so he just kissed your hair before he pulled away and grabbed the gun that was covered in your prints.

It wasn’t long before you and Matt got back to his apartment. There were barely any words spoken between the two of you as you made your way back but Matt’s hand rested in yours, his thumb gently brushing against the skin that wasn’t cut.

“Take a seat,” He told you, gesturing to the sofa as he grabbed the first aid kit.

He cleaned the cuts as gently as he could, whispering apologies as you winced against his touch and didn’t speak until he was wrapping your wrists.

“What were you thinking?” He asked softly, causing you to hum questionly at him. “Going after his mother.” He clarified and heard your heart speed up as you stared at him.

“How do you know I went after his mom?” You asked him, pulling back slightly.

“I heard you and Wesley talking,” He told you quietly, finally realising this is when the other shoe dropped and you gave him the reaction he was expecting.

“You heard that and you waited until I had the gun to come in?” Your voice was shaky as you stared questioningly down at him.

“No,” Matt said, clearing his throat as he sat back on his knees, “I heard you from two blocks away.”

“Two blocks?” You asked, watching as he nodded. “Impossible.”

Matt felt his lips twitch into a smile at your statement but quickly dropped it as he began to explain himself.

“It’s true, I heard him tell you that you could be an ally, work for Fisk and I heard you tell him exactly what he could do with that offer.” Despite everything Matt couldn’t help the pride he felt for you, how well you’d held your own against Wesley.

“How could you have possibly heard that from two blocks away?” You asked him, thoughts running wild.

“You know how I told you about the accident,” He said, gesturing vaguely up to his eyes and he waited for you to nod before he carried on, “It did more than just blind me, Y/N. It gave me these…abilities. Suddenly it was like, I don’t know, I was blind but I was seeing the world differently, I could hear everything, I could smell everything.”

“What does that mean, you can hear everything? You heard a conversation two blocks away, what else can you hear?” Confusion and fear were the two main emotions you were feeling right now and they only got worse as Matt carried on talking.

“I can hear more than two blocks away, I would have heard you sooner but I was more focused on getting there than listening. I can,” Matt began but cut himself off as he remembered Foggy’s reaction to him being able to hear a heartbeat.

“Matt,” You prompted gently, hesitating before taking his hand in yours.

“I can hear a heartbeat from across the room,” He confessed quietly, hearing your own get quicker and quicker. “Helps determine threats in the room or when I need information I know if they’re being honest.”

“You know when people are lying?” You asked, voice small as you thought back to all the times you hadn’t been honest with Matt, “You knew every time I was lying to you and you never said anything?”

“Yeah.” He told you honestly, his own eyes welling up with tears.

“Matt,” You breathed out but nothing else came out.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He managed around the sudden lump in his throat.

“I’ve heard about what the Man in the Mask does, Matt. Are you-” You started but had to pause to push down more tears, “Are you really blind?” You finally managed to ask.

“I’m blind,” He told you, not going down the world on fire route he had with Foggy because that didn’t end well, “but my other senses, they allow me to see more than any seeing person could ever hope to.”

You let out a shaky breath as you nodded, taking in his words. Yes, you were shocked and you were so, so scared for him but ultimately you were really glad it was him in that mask tonight because you don’t think you would have managed without him.

“Does anyone else know?” You asked him quietly.

“Foggy, he-uh he found out recently,” He told you with a nod, “and um-Claire knows, she’s a nurse and she found out when I landed in her dumpster, half dead. She’s been patching me up ever since.”

You nodded too, glad, relieved, that Matt had somebody looking out for him. You were shocked Foggy had only recently found out but then again you knew Matt and you knew the guilt he carried around and that made it easy to figure out why he hadn’t told either of you.

“I’m really glad it’s you in that mask.” You told him quietly and he heard your heartbeat settle into that steady rhythm that never failed to ground him.

He couldn’t help but smile up at you, huffing out a small laugh as he did.

“You’re taking this better than I thought you would.” He said, shifting so he was sitting next to you on the sofa instead of on the floor.

“I nearly killed a man tonight, finding out your Daredevil is second on my list of things that I should probably freak out over.” You told him, leaning into him and relaxing as his hand cupped your cheek.

“You did good.” He told you again, leaning down and giving you plenty of time to move away before he brushed his lips against yours.

You happily kissed him back, soft and slow, feeling the stress melt from you as you did.

“You did good,” He repeated as the two of you pulled away, him resting his forehead against yours causing you to smile.

“I knew you’d find me.” You told him and he smiled as he listened to the comforting drum of your heartbeat.

“Always,” He promised, “C’mon, you need to sleep.”

It wasn’t long before the two of you were wrapped up in silk sheets, your head tucked under Matt’s as he held you close, not planning on letting you out of his sight any time soon.

_____________

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Febuwhump Day 9: Voice loss.

Fandom: Star Wars

Timeline: The Bad Batch

Screaming. Hunter had been doing a lot of that. His voice had become hoarse and his throat throbbed. Some imperial soldiers had brought him in. Since then the torture had been endless. They wanted information on the rebels. No matter how many times Hunter said he didn't know they just kept harming him. The interrogator also wanted the location of the rest of the batch. Hunter knew that; Echo was with Rex and the rest of them were on Ord Mantell, But that he would never tell.

    Soon the hoarse yelling became no noise at all. Hunter continued attempting to tell the clone that he didn't know. Nothing came out. "What, cat got your tongue or something?" Crank antagonized.

    Hunter had asked for the soldier's name when he had entered, hoping the gesture would help him out a little and because asking a clone for their name was meaningful; well to most of them. Though Crank had seemed pleasantly surprised it was no use.

    The mercenary opened him mouth to argue but just closed it again.

    The door slid open to reveal Crosshair. "Hello Hunter" he hissed. Then the clone actually looked at his brother. Hunter saw the surprise and worry in his eyes for a brief second.

    'hello Crosshair' Hunter mouthed. The sniper was able to read lips, his mutation helped him immensely with this.

    "Use your voice Hunter."

    'I can't.'

    "Why?" Crosshair whispered low enough for only his brother to hear.

    'Maybe Cross still cares after all' Hunter though. "Screaming took it."

    Crosshair turned to the reg, "You do know we can't use him if he can't speak right? Idiot. I'll take care of him."

    Crank shrugged and left the room.

    It hurt Crosshair to see Hunter like this. The man was bloody and bruised. He'd seen him like this before but that was when he was on his side. Now he was on the side hurting him.

    "I'll find you something for your throat." Crosshair softened.

    Crosshair was never really outwardly kind. It meant a lot to Hunter knowing despite everything; despite every time they left him, the fact that in his eyes they betrayed him, for not trusting him; that Crosshair still cared.

    The door closed and Hunter was alone. For the first time he assessed his injuries. They consisted of deep cuts, colorful bruises, burn marks from electricity, broken bones, and his raw throat. His throat burned. He needed to be able to speak, how else could he lead his family? How could he comfort them or protect them? He couldn't warn them of harm if he couldn't speak. The rest of the injuries didn't really concern him, just the voice loss.

    Crosshair would come back later with a cup of tea. How he managed to obtain the tea confused Hunter but he was thankful. His wrists were freed and he shakingly grabbed the cup. Giving his brother a nod to thank him he took a sip. It was somehow his favorite. This made the man smile. The gesture helped his heart more than it helped his throat.

    Footsteps. Familiar footsteps. The door opened and the batch spilled into the room. Surprisingly blaster fire did not follow. "We're here too... Ummm what?" Wrecker stood bewildered.

    The scene unraveling in front of him was certainly far from expected. Crosshair was helping Hunter. He sat beside Hunter with his hand slightly under the cup, ready to grab it if it fell.

    Echo still held his gun to the soldier. The others had lowered theirs. "Are you sure that's not poisoned." Echo was suspicious and for good reason. Crosshair was an imperial soldier after all. Crosshair gave Echo a death glare.

    Hunter looked past Crosshair and nodded, signaling Echo to lower his weapon. He complied.

    "We need to get out of here. It won't be long before the empire notices we are here." Tech said.

    Hunter tried to stand. His legs gave out on him and he started to fell. Crosshair caught him and lowered him back to the ground. "Wrecker come here" but of course no sound came out.

    "Hunter I think you forgot something there" Omega joked.

    Crosshair had sat beside Hunter once more. "He can't talk."

    "Why not?" Wrecker respond.

    "Likely the torture. Your vocal cords can only handle so much stress before you cannot talk. He should be fine." Tech answered.

    Omega looked worried. Hunter gave her a soft smile which calmed he fears slightly. Wrecker walked over to his injured brother and picked him up. Hunter winced.

    "Sorry." Wrecker had nothing to apologize for and he knew it. However it made him feel a little bit better about any necessary pain he caused.

    "Do you hear anyone?" Echo asked. Hunter shook his head and turned to face Crosshair. He pulled his arm out and offered his hand to Crosshair. He looked tempted. "No. My place is here, your place should be here."

    "We don't see eye to eye on that." Wrecker sighed, "we miss you though."

    "We can't fight for something we don't believe in." Echo spoke. Crosshair nodded.

    "If you ever need us try to let us know okay?" Omega hugged her brother, and then they left.

    Crosshair grabbed the tea cup from the floor and softly smiled. He made the right choice letting them leave over and over. Maybe he'd let them take him one day.

Felicia Hardy is a crazy woman. What happens when she has her sights set on taking Spider-Man, no, even worse, Peter Parker, out of the picture? Will Peter Parker be able to escape her clutches by himself, or will he need help? 

TW: Kidnapping, electrocution, restraints (power dampening), non-consensual drug use

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my plot.

@febuwhump

@febuwhump prompt: alt 7 Last Words

***

How many times had he been in this position? How many departing words had his ears caught? How many desperate eyes stared at him rather than face Death, seeking one last moment of human contact... Hoping perhaps for a salvation he could not provide... Trusting in him to bear witness to their passing, to carry on the memory of their life in that moment if nothing else.

He refused to rewind time too far. There had been so many instances during his time in the syndicate... Too many. And even before that...

Even starting at the beginning of his partnership with Jet was too much. There had been so many deaths... So many lives winking out with him in their vicinity.

The more recent ones haunted him too strongly to be dismissed.

Katerina. Soundless, he had read on her lips the whispered goodbye she spoke before the police destroyed the vessel she and Asimov had desperately tried to escape in. Asimov whose life Katerina herself had ended.

The thug threatening Faye. Taunting him. Arrogance heavy in his tone as he assumed he held all the cards. Spike had casually disabused him of that notion by firing a bullet straight through his skull.

Giraffe. Bleeding out and still only concerned about doing what he could for the comrade he had once served with. Passing on to Spike the responsibility of ending the life of a monster.

Wen. The monster. Much like Frankenstein's creature, the boy-who-was-not-a-boy had not had much choice in how he came to be. The reality of his existence was still one that Spike found hard to believe despite having all the evidence and testimony that could be had. Killing the monster he had become had allowed the corruption of the boy's soul to be reversed, to bring the poor kid into the peace of death at last. Or so Wen had said before the arrested development of his body catapulted him to a decrepit state.

Roco. Just another well-meaning youth who had taken the wrong path for the right reasons. Stella hadn't cared about her own blindness, she had accepted life as it was for her, she had only wanted to have her brother around. So really was Roco being a hero for the right reason? Not that it mattered now of course... he'd been so earnest, had been so trusting... It was odd to think that his last words had been to wonder about friendship with Spike. There hadn't been that many years between them but there had been a world of difference between being a foolhardy kid in a Venusian mafia and being an enforcer for one of the toughest syndicates on Mars. It had felt like a terrier puppy wanting to befriend a grizzled mastiff.

Gren. The sad soul whose final words had been a desperate plea to return to a time and place he could never revisit, and who had also wasted his own precious breath to share what he had been granted of Julia... how she had spoken of Spike's eyes and how she had indulged in that damn tune, that haunting music...

Mad Pierrot. Perhaps the saddest last words... a broken mind, childishly sobbing for a mother long gone...

Londes. Somewhere, a living soul. But in the ruins of the building where he had led Faye to die, speaking out of countless shattered screens, he had been more displaced technology than anything else to Spike. And yet, his plea had been alarmingly human... the fear of nothingness, the fear of dying alone, and bitching about fairness as if the universe had anything to do with that vaunted concept.

Annie. Fuck. One of the more personal ones... one of the most needless ones. Arms dealers weren't supposed to be casualties even in conflicts within a syndicate. It had been her closeness with Mao and with Spike himself that had signed her death warrant. Him coming back to life had indeed been worse on her than anything else she could have done to herself. Those hadn't been her final words, of course, but even spoken months before they echoed in Spike's mind over her actual murmur at the end, so commonplace and simple... a remark about the weather...

Julia. What had it all been? Is a dream a lie if it doesn't come true or is it something worse? They had been fooling themselves when they were messing around... fooling themselves by fancying themselves to be in love... imagining that they could one day live a dream together. Though he had harbored affection for her long after she failed to show up, her decision to flee on her own had severed some of the bonds between them. Everything had been so meaningless after he escaped the syndicate without her at his side. He had been drifting from that point on... forging new friendships almost against his will, having people barge into his life and into his heart and being entirely unable to push them back out again... and then it all came crashing down and reality blurred once more and... was any of this real?

Shin. Idealistic, naive, brave Shin. "I wanted you to come back..." ...well, Spike did feel bad about abandoning Shin and Lin to the clutches of the syndicate, but they'd still been brash boys gung-ho about the life of gangsters. They hadn't become disgusted with themselves like Spike had. Hadn't fallen for an angel whose own hands and wings were soaked in blood. He wasn't sure if he could have made their lives better by staying in the first place or if he could have kept either alive if he'd done a better job of staying away instead. It didn't really matter now... done was done and he had their lives - their deaths - on his conscience like so many more.

And now... bloodied and battered and staggering away from the crumpled corpse of Vicious... "if that's your wish..." certainly not the most profound last words ever spoken. Then again, he might have uttered his own before that... although, "let's end it all" was by far a much cooler line to exit on if you asked him.

He could do better though, right?

Memories of his own childhood reared in his mind suddenly. Was this his life flashing before his eyes? It had happened quite a few times before, though never this far back... never all the way to an age of jubilation, scrawny rascals racing around playing cops and robbers with finger guns, the sun shining on their wild antics and their laughing mothers hanging laundry on clotheslines stretching between buildings...

"Bang."