There is no ticker-tape parade for Gene, no cheers, no accolades - and no tribunal.
He'd disappeared, and erased all record of himself, already making plans to lie low and live off the grid entirely. And he could do that now, with the power, the power, the power, the cursed power that rested on his fingers and thrummed in his veins.
But even that wasn't enough for him to undo what he'd done. He tried, over and over he tried, he tried until his head was full of piercing pain and his eyes stung and his bones hurt, the power crackling through him like a live wire.
He'd hidden himself, hidden the house that used to be his mother's, hidden it all and sat there with the enormity of what he'd done and the knowledge that if he returned to acknowledge his fault he'd be locked up for the rest of his life. Locked up, again, after such precious little time free. He'd rather die. He'd rather die.
He is the loneliest and emptiest he's ever been, and he knows he can never go back.
Earth could be his charge, but it could no longer be his home. Not again. Never again.
He lies down hopelessly, ten rings on his fingers, his head heavy and his heart aching and his eyes red and raw from his bitter weeping. He'd lost so much, caused so much pain and strife solely by existing. He wishes he'd never been born, never had those visions, never mentioned them, kept his mouth shut and kept the world safe from the Makluans. Safe from him.
It wasn't worth it.
It wasn't worth it.
It wasn't worth it.
----
Gene awakens suddenly, his breath catching, and he lies very still. He'd been moved while he was asleep, and now he's sharing a bed and a blanket with someone. With Tony.
The thought is like a knife in his heart; his head's swimming, and he stops breathing for a moment, trying to remain as still as possible. It had been a terrible outcome - the best possible for everyone else, but still terrible for him.
How could Tony do anything but hate him now? He'd lost the one good thing he had going for him through his own madness and stupidity, and there's no turning back.
His eyes are closed, but he can feel tears welling up in them. He'll never be able to atone for his sins. He knows that. And Tony's well within his rights to hate and abjure him and cast him away.
no subject
He'd disappeared, and erased all record of himself, already making plans to lie low and live off the grid entirely. And he could do that now, with the power, the power, the power, the cursed power that rested on his fingers and thrummed in his veins.
But even that wasn't enough for him to undo what he'd done. He tried, over and over he tried, he tried until his head was full of piercing pain and his eyes stung and his bones hurt, the power crackling through him like a live wire.
He'd hidden himself, hidden the house that used to be his mother's, hidden it all and sat there with the enormity of what he'd done and the knowledge that if he returned to acknowledge his fault he'd be locked up for the rest of his life. Locked up, again, after such precious little time free. He'd rather die. He'd rather die.
He is the loneliest and emptiest he's ever been, and he knows he can never go back.
Earth could be his charge, but it could no longer be his home. Not again. Never again.
He lies down hopelessly, ten rings on his fingers, his head heavy and his heart aching and his eyes red and raw from his bitter weeping. He'd lost so much, caused so much pain and strife solely by existing. He wishes he'd never been born, never had those visions, never mentioned them, kept his mouth shut and kept the world safe from the Makluans. Safe from him.
It wasn't worth it.
It wasn't worth it.
It wasn't worth it.
----
Gene awakens suddenly, his breath catching, and he lies very still. He'd been moved while he was asleep, and now he's sharing a bed and a blanket with someone. With Tony.
The thought is like a knife in his heart; his head's swimming, and he stops breathing for a moment, trying to remain as still as possible. It had been a terrible outcome - the best possible for everyone else, but still terrible for him.
How could Tony do anything but hate him now? He'd lost the one good thing he had going for him through his own madness and stupidity, and there's no turning back.
His eyes are closed, but he can feel tears welling up in them. He'll never be able to atone for his sins. He knows that. And Tony's well within his rights to hate and abjure him and cast him away.