Just Fine
I never liked to complain much. About aches or pains that I'm feeling.
People think I'm just trying to be strong but the truth is that I don't see the point.
Why whine and moan about back ach or bullet wound? Who would that help?
Also half the time I just don't think of myself. Just by accident.
Sometimes I'll work right through lunch and Havoc will ask on his way out if I want anything. Almost the moment after I tell him I'm not hungry, my stomach will rumble loudly.
The traitor.
I'll swear, I didn't even know I was hungry till that moment.
Most people give me a weird look when I tell them I'm fine.
Like they don't know if they should believe me.
But really, it's true.
I have to protect someone.
If that means running when my feet hurt or shooting when there's a bullet in my arm, then it's fine.
I can live with alittle pain. I can't complain. I'm fine.
I'm alive.
He's alive and he has a dream and I need to protect him.
He's alive.
And I'm just fine.