[One tragedy doesn't cancel out another. It's a beautiful sentiment, to be sure-- the idea that every life is sacred, and the trading of one life for another has no benefit.
But he knows it isn't true. How often had Irene and Domino looked at him after Nate's death in that certain way they had? They never said anything, but he knew what they were thinking-- why had he been spared, a loudmouthed, morally questionable mercenary with more entries in the DSM than Jeffrey Dahmer? Why was he able to keep his life while the supposed savior of the modern world was chosen to sacrifice himself?
The worst thing is, Wade doesn't know either. It doesn't make any sense. And he can't help shaking this feeling that maybe there was something he was supposed to do-- some sort of sequence of events he should have put in motion to ensure that both Nate and Abel could have survived. He supposes he'll never stop thinking that way, not even ten years from now.
His head hurts, and the tightness in his chest has reached unbearable levels, but he still manages to smile down at the woman who needs him right now, one of the first people who, from the outset, treated him like he was an actual person and not some loose cannon to be kept on a leash at all times. He cups her face in a gentle hand, marveling at how the tears have brightened her eyes; how small and fragile she looks now.]
You're so kind, Cat. You know that? Can't say I've met many people who've been as kind to me as you've been. I'm gonna try my best to make it up to you. I don't know how yet, but... if there's anything you might need, I won't be far away. You won't be alone. I promise.
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But he knows it isn't true. How often had Irene and Domino looked at him after Nate's death in that certain way they had? They never said anything, but he knew what they were thinking-- why had he been spared, a loudmouthed, morally questionable mercenary with more entries in the DSM than Jeffrey Dahmer? Why was he able to keep his life while the supposed savior of the modern world was chosen to sacrifice himself?
The worst thing is, Wade doesn't know either. It doesn't make any sense. And he can't help shaking this feeling that maybe there was something he was supposed to do-- some sort of sequence of events he should have put in motion to ensure that both Nate and Abel could have survived. He supposes he'll never stop thinking that way, not even ten years from now.
His head hurts, and the tightness in his chest has reached unbearable levels, but he still manages to smile down at the woman who needs him right now, one of the first people who, from the outset, treated him like he was an actual person and not some loose cannon to be kept on a leash at all times. He cups her face in a gentle hand, marveling at how the tears have brightened her eyes; how small and fragile she looks now.]
You're so kind, Cat. You know that? Can't say I've met many people who've been as kind to me as you've been. I'm gonna try my best to make it up to you. I don't know how yet, but... if there's anything you might need, I won't be far away. You won't be alone. I promise.