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- Jan 1, 2003
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I shouldn't have been crying in the first place. Rocket Elites don't cry, especially not assassins.
But it felt like a betrayal.
The Boss himself had hurt me so badly.
He had every right to, I know that. I fouled up, and I paid the price.
But he'd never been that rough with me before, never made me bleed before...
When he was done, I ran out as fast as I could. Considering what he'd just done to me, it wasn't that fast.
And I was crying.
I haven't cried in years.
I hid in my room, next to the bed. I couldn't get up onto it, too many connotations.
The door clicked shut, but I didn't care. It wasn't the Boss, that's all I knew; so I didn't bother to look up.
In this line of work, such carelessness can get you killed.
"'Ey, chickie!" Perfect, it had to be him, didn't it?
I didn't answer, just kept staring blankly at the wall.
He must've thought I was in a coma or something. I wish I was, then I wouldn't have to think about anything. But he threw himself onto the bed and grabbed my shoulders, shaking me roughly. "DOMINO?" he shouted. From zero to sixty, like always.
I waved my hand at him. "...back off, 'Sashie...I'm not in the mood..."
He paused, something unusual for him. "...Domino, what happened?"
Another rarity, concern. Usually, any interest he took in someone was prurient or physical, but this seemed genuine.
"Nothin'. Leave me alone..." I turned around to face him. He had the mask on, as usual, but I could tell he was watching my every move.
"Who hurt you?" He closed his eyes--I could tell--and sighed. "I know someone did somethin' to you. Tell me who it was." His fists clenched and his jaw tightened.
He was vengeful. But he couldn't do anything to the Boss.
"...it was the Boss...I fucked up today and he...punished me."
There was a dull silence, an intake of breath. "I'll kill him," he muttered at length.
"Bisashu..."
"I'll kill the fucker." He released me from his leather grip and stood. "That bastard's gonna pay..."
He was gone from the room before I could protest further. He was pissed, and when he got like that, everyone knew it.
But he couldn't take it out on the Boss.
...could he?
That stopped me. He's a very violent man when angered. Would that override his standing as a Rocket Elite?
I couldn't answer. I knew the rumors of his loyalties lying elsewhere, but he'd always been in good standing as far as the Boss was concerned.
But there were always the rumors.
And then the way he stormed out of here...whenever he's been that angry, someone's paid for it.
Then it hit me.
He knew I got what I deserved. He knew the Boss had every right to punish me for what happened. And he was protesting it. He was going against the Boss' absolute rule.
I was hesitant to put a name to it at first. He'd always been a faithful agent; but to question the Boss was to invite death. He wouldn't dare take a risk like that unless he...
...meant it...
...no.
As fast as I could manage, I grabbed for the phone and dialed the Boss' office. I could warn him, could prevent this.
One ring.
Come on, answer.
Two rings.
Maybe he's distracted with something, maybe he's on another line...
Three rings.
A click, then a dial tone. Like someone disconnected it.
No...
...it was done...
...the Boss was dead, I knew it...
I stayed there, my hand on the phone, for what seemed like eternity, but it was in reality only a few minutes. Then I heard his voice--again, I hadn't heard the door.
"Baby..."
I couldn't look at him. If I saw him, I'd only say it, and if I said it, there would be no going back.
"Chickie, you know I had to do it, right?"
I gasped. I knew he'd done it. I knew the Boss was dead. But to hear him say it was...beyond what I could take.
And I said the word I'd been avoiding in my mind.
"...traitor..."
He took a step back. "...chickie, he--"
"NO!" I screamed, and bolted to my feet. "TRAITOR!"
He seemed for a moment like he was going to protest, but something stopped him and he slumped. "...yeah."
'Yeah?' I twitched. That's all he had to say? He killed the Boss! And betrayed the Team!
There was only one fate for someone like him.
With shaking hands, I grabbed the gun from the bedside table. He had to die.
When I turned back around, he had fallen to his knees. There was no need for words, he knew what would happen.
He began to remove his mask, and I knew what that meant. He was disgraced, and would die that way.
I quivered. I'm not sure why.
"...'Sashie...put that back on..."
He looked up at me curiously but did as I asked; and I lowered the gun to his head. "...any last words...?"
A low sigh. "...he hurt you, chickie...I had to do it..."
A shot, and it was over.
My hands were still shaking.
It felt strange, even though I knew I'd done the right thing. He was a traitor. He murdered the Boss, and had to pay for it.
But something about it hurt. I didn't know why, but it did.
Gradually, something dawned on me.
He came back here. He knew what would happen, and he came back. He knew he was a traitor of the worst sort, and still he came back.
He did it for me. And that realization was like another gunshot.
I went limp, falling back on the bed, the gun still clenched in my hand. He willingly did this, even knowing how it would end.
I trace a path over the blanket until the smoking barrel is against my head. It was my fault, after all. If I hadn't been crying, he never would have done any of this.
But no. I have to keep going. The Team needs me; at least that's what the Boss always said. The next leader would have some use for me.
Maybe I'd be a traitor myself in the long run. Maybe someday I'd be lying dead on the floor, my executioner agonizing over the events leading up to it.
So I'm here now, just lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The gun's not aimed at me any more, but it's close enough that I can feel the heat leaving it.
And I realize something.
I'm still crying.
But it felt like a betrayal.
The Boss himself had hurt me so badly.
He had every right to, I know that. I fouled up, and I paid the price.
But he'd never been that rough with me before, never made me bleed before...
When he was done, I ran out as fast as I could. Considering what he'd just done to me, it wasn't that fast.
And I was crying.
I haven't cried in years.
I hid in my room, next to the bed. I couldn't get up onto it, too many connotations.
The door clicked shut, but I didn't care. It wasn't the Boss, that's all I knew; so I didn't bother to look up.
In this line of work, such carelessness can get you killed.
"'Ey, chickie!" Perfect, it had to be him, didn't it?
I didn't answer, just kept staring blankly at the wall.
He must've thought I was in a coma or something. I wish I was, then I wouldn't have to think about anything. But he threw himself onto the bed and grabbed my shoulders, shaking me roughly. "DOMINO?" he shouted. From zero to sixty, like always.
I waved my hand at him. "...back off, 'Sashie...I'm not in the mood..."
He paused, something unusual for him. "...Domino, what happened?"
Another rarity, concern. Usually, any interest he took in someone was prurient or physical, but this seemed genuine.
"Nothin'. Leave me alone..." I turned around to face him. He had the mask on, as usual, but I could tell he was watching my every move.
"Who hurt you?" He closed his eyes--I could tell--and sighed. "I know someone did somethin' to you. Tell me who it was." His fists clenched and his jaw tightened.
He was vengeful. But he couldn't do anything to the Boss.
"...it was the Boss...I fucked up today and he...punished me."
There was a dull silence, an intake of breath. "I'll kill him," he muttered at length.
"Bisashu..."
"I'll kill the fucker." He released me from his leather grip and stood. "That bastard's gonna pay..."
He was gone from the room before I could protest further. He was pissed, and when he got like that, everyone knew it.
But he couldn't take it out on the Boss.
...could he?
That stopped me. He's a very violent man when angered. Would that override his standing as a Rocket Elite?
I couldn't answer. I knew the rumors of his loyalties lying elsewhere, but he'd always been in good standing as far as the Boss was concerned.
But there were always the rumors.
And then the way he stormed out of here...whenever he's been that angry, someone's paid for it.
Then it hit me.
He knew I got what I deserved. He knew the Boss had every right to punish me for what happened. And he was protesting it. He was going against the Boss' absolute rule.
I was hesitant to put a name to it at first. He'd always been a faithful agent; but to question the Boss was to invite death. He wouldn't dare take a risk like that unless he...
...meant it...
...no.
As fast as I could manage, I grabbed for the phone and dialed the Boss' office. I could warn him, could prevent this.
One ring.
Come on, answer.
Two rings.
Maybe he's distracted with something, maybe he's on another line...
Three rings.
A click, then a dial tone. Like someone disconnected it.
No...
...it was done...
...the Boss was dead, I knew it...
I stayed there, my hand on the phone, for what seemed like eternity, but it was in reality only a few minutes. Then I heard his voice--again, I hadn't heard the door.
"Baby..."
I couldn't look at him. If I saw him, I'd only say it, and if I said it, there would be no going back.
"Chickie, you know I had to do it, right?"
I gasped. I knew he'd done it. I knew the Boss was dead. But to hear him say it was...beyond what I could take.
And I said the word I'd been avoiding in my mind.
"...traitor..."
He took a step back. "...chickie, he--"
"NO!" I screamed, and bolted to my feet. "TRAITOR!"
He seemed for a moment like he was going to protest, but something stopped him and he slumped. "...yeah."
'Yeah?' I twitched. That's all he had to say? He killed the Boss! And betrayed the Team!
There was only one fate for someone like him.
With shaking hands, I grabbed the gun from the bedside table. He had to die.
When I turned back around, he had fallen to his knees. There was no need for words, he knew what would happen.
He began to remove his mask, and I knew what that meant. He was disgraced, and would die that way.
I quivered. I'm not sure why.
"...'Sashie...put that back on..."
He looked up at me curiously but did as I asked; and I lowered the gun to his head. "...any last words...?"
A low sigh. "...he hurt you, chickie...I had to do it..."
A shot, and it was over.
My hands were still shaking.
It felt strange, even though I knew I'd done the right thing. He was a traitor. He murdered the Boss, and had to pay for it.
But something about it hurt. I didn't know why, but it did.
Gradually, something dawned on me.
He came back here. He knew what would happen, and he came back. He knew he was a traitor of the worst sort, and still he came back.
He did it for me. And that realization was like another gunshot.
I went limp, falling back on the bed, the gun still clenched in my hand. He willingly did this, even knowing how it would end.
I trace a path over the blanket until the smoking barrel is against my head. It was my fault, after all. If I hadn't been crying, he never would have done any of this.
But no. I have to keep going. The Team needs me; at least that's what the Boss always said. The next leader would have some use for me.
Maybe I'd be a traitor myself in the long run. Maybe someday I'd be lying dead on the floor, my executioner agonizing over the events leading up to it.
So I'm here now, just lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The gun's not aimed at me any more, but it's close enough that I can feel the heat leaving it.
And I realize something.
I'm still crying.
. You pulled it off just great in the end.
