- Joined
- Jan 1, 2003
- Messages
- 16,598
- Reaction score
- 417
Yet another one for Rocket100, at Ket Makura's idea. The narrator was originally supposed to be Domino, but since I don't name who it is, it could be any Elite officer. And can't anyone live to a ripe old age in my fics?
Everyone wants to know exactly how it happened, but they don't believe me when I tell them.
You gave me my mission, went over the details, and I saluted you and was halfway out the door when I heard you hit the desk. Persian cried out and I ran back to you. Your vital signs had stopped, your eyes were open and unfocused, and my stomach sank. I screamed for your secretary and tried to bring you back, but I knew it wasn't going to do any good.
That was it. No cliches, no memorable last words. The last thing you said was something to your Persian about it needing to be groomed, at least that's what I think I heard. And it didn't catch anything either. You always hear about pokémon being able to predict things like that, but it was as taken by surprise as anyone.
The coroner said it was a blood clot, and that there wasn't anything we could have done.
The Team demanded that I tell them every detail of our meeting, your last moments, but nothing happened. There wasn't any leadup or sign, you were just gone.
And because of that, I hardly feel anything. Certainly I'm sad, but there's no regrets. We said everything we could have to each other. And really, a painless, natural death was the best you could have had. I was always paranoid that it would happen in a shootout with another Team, or that the police would catch you, or that there would be a traitor, but no. It was over in an instant, with nothing to be done.
As an Elite, I helped to make sure that the transition to a new leader was as smooth as it could be, and so life in the Rockets goes on. Even Persian found a new beginning, at the feet of the new leader.
But while most agents dwell on the past, I look forward. There's really nothing else we can do.
Right, Sir?
Everyone wants to know exactly how it happened, but they don't believe me when I tell them.
You gave me my mission, went over the details, and I saluted you and was halfway out the door when I heard you hit the desk. Persian cried out and I ran back to you. Your vital signs had stopped, your eyes were open and unfocused, and my stomach sank. I screamed for your secretary and tried to bring you back, but I knew it wasn't going to do any good.
That was it. No cliches, no memorable last words. The last thing you said was something to your Persian about it needing to be groomed, at least that's what I think I heard. And it didn't catch anything either. You always hear about pokémon being able to predict things like that, but it was as taken by surprise as anyone.
The coroner said it was a blood clot, and that there wasn't anything we could have done.
The Team demanded that I tell them every detail of our meeting, your last moments, but nothing happened. There wasn't any leadup or sign, you were just gone.
And because of that, I hardly feel anything. Certainly I'm sad, but there's no regrets. We said everything we could have to each other. And really, a painless, natural death was the best you could have had. I was always paranoid that it would happen in a shootout with another Team, or that the police would catch you, or that there would be a traitor, but no. It was over in an instant, with nothing to be done.
As an Elite, I helped to make sure that the transition to a new leader was as smooth as it could be, and so life in the Rockets goes on. Even Persian found a new beginning, at the feet of the new leader.
But while most agents dwell on the past, I look forward. There's really nothing else we can do.
Right, Sir?
