Okay, I have had this idea ever since I first watched the G.I Joe Retaliation movie. This is my intake of the moments after Storm Shadow returned the blade to Jinx and disappeared. I hope you like it.
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

This feeling. It's something I have never felt before. It's so empty, so suffocating yet not even there. For the first time in my life I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I have no master, no orders to follow, no place to return to. Nothing to make my existence worth while.

Storm Shadow squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. Standing on a rooftop viewing the calm bay he sighed. It was, as he had thought, a scary situation. Having always had the backing of Cobra or the Arashikage family, though that fact had dawned on him only moments ago, the white-clad ninja felt… out of place.

Opening his brown eyes the ninja eyed Fort Sumter. Just like him it was empty. Only a few hours before the battle for humankind's freedom had been fought there with a strength ratio of 1:100 –and the freedom had succeeded. He had to admire the team work between the Joes and how they all operated like cogs in a clock. Even he, an ex-Cobra operative, had been a part of that smooth function.

The night had descended on him quickly and without a warning. Dark clouds had been pooling around the city and were now giving their first hints of rain. Downpour was inevitable.

The white clad ninja could deal with the weather. Heck, he could deal with any kind of weather. But being without a place with a tie to was driving him over the edge.

A small laughter left his lips.

This… all of this…

Storm Shadow couldn't shake the feeling. He had nothing now. And the Cobra would, without a doubt, come after him after his betrayal. Though, he didn't feel too bad about severing his ties with the said organization. After all, it had been Zartan who had made him into what he was now. What the Arashikage clan was now.

He could, perhaps, go back to the Arashikages. They would, most likely, welcome him, having learnt the truth behind Hard Master's death.

But returning to his so-called family was, in reality, out of the question. They hadn't believed him. Instead they had chased him away like a stray dog. Chased him into the arms of the man who had killed the Hard Master.

No, He didn't belong there anymore.

The wind played in his short dark hair and ruffled his clothes, the chill dripping through the fabric into his skin and bones. A cough tried to break away, but the ninja willed it back.

Perhaps the Joes could accept him into their ranks.

He thought back to the short period of time he had spent scheming with the Joes. The General had been, to lack a better word, nice towards him and had even offered some of his weaponry for him to use. Now, after having seen the strength the dismantled Joes fought with, and having pondered the General's proposition, the ninja had come to the conclusion that he should have taken at least one throwing star. It could have come in handy –against whom, he didn't care.

Maybe he could…

Ridiculous! It was just as Flint had said; he had killed so many of them that he deserved no pity from the G.I Joes. Not even his sworn brother would be able to do anything to help him. Not that he would, in any case.

His brother…

Snake Eyes had been as hurt as he had been when the Master had died, Storm Shadow realized it now, but somehow the blond-haired man had gotten over it. True, the black-clad ninja had chased him across the world and finally caught up with him on the mountains, but he hadn't subdued to rage like the Japanese man had and instead took him back to the clan alive. Where did his brother get the strength to fight the storming ocean of feelings within him, Storm Shadow did not know.

A siren could be heard in the distance. The white-clad man balled his fists as a groan rose from his throat.

He couldn't understand…

His sword brother had been trusted with the blade of the Arashikage back in Japan, and in the midst of the Fort battle, he had given it to him. Just. Like. That.

It had felt good to take the life of Zartan with the clan's sword, but a part of the white ninja had cried in agony and screamed in rage as the sword had lost contact with his fingers and plunged into the older man's chest. So many years of bitter training and pain to clear his name and the only thing that he had ever wanted wasn't his to keep.

At least it was in good hands…

But he couldn't go back to his brother, nor to his cousin. He couldn't go back to anyone.

Truly, he was alone.

It was raining heavily now and the sound echoed around the buildings and the blocks. Storm Shadow didn't bother to find cover. Who would care if he were to catch something as simple as a cold? Who would be interested in what he was doing? Who would even blink an eye if he were to die?

No one.

Not his Arashikage family, not his sword brother and most definitely not Cobra.

Not. A. Single. Person.

No tears would be shed, no speeches given, no honorary shots fired. Not a single damn thing would be done. While still breathing, he was dead to the world. Dead to all.

The dark haired man let out a roar of anguish and ache. The rage and hatred had ruled and guided his life, and now it all was meaningless. All a trick, one that Zartan had pulled on him all those years ago.

All a deceit.

All a lie.

His feet shuffled on the roof before a quiet thump was heard on the pavement below. But there was no one to hear, no one to see the white ninja disappear into the crying night.

Pain clutched the man's chest. Hatred blinded his eyes. Fear stopped his breathing. Yet, a small thought, one someone could perhaps call hope, acknowledged its presence in the back of Storm Shadow's mind.

Perhaps there is one…

Ideas, requests, comments and reviews are all welcome and appreciated. :)
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I really feel bad for Storm Shadow.