Physically he was ready. His training complete, as agile and as strong as those he would fight alongside.
And yet his mind was a storm of doubt, unable to shake that one nagging thought at the back of his head.
He would be sent to his death.
The room was very basic. A bed, a chest of drawers, and a mirror.
Nothing else, only emptyness and darkness.
There was probably a metaphor in that somewhere.
He gazed into the mirror as he undressed, his body was perfect, untouched. This marked him as the youngest of his kind, as all his elders were already scarred in some way.
Some simply suffered cuts and bruises, others weren't so lucky. One of them was known to lack a face, and yet survived.
This was who he was.
Blood Falcon.
One of many. An army, a family.
All sharing an intrinsic hatred for the man from which they were created.
A hatred of his freedom, a resentment of his life.
In the morning, their fight would begin.
The door opened behind him, another Blood entering the room. His individuality indicated by the colour of his scarf, a dirty gold hue.
Neither of them spoke, merely a nod of aknowledgement.
Black Shadow could never understand it, not that he ever took the time to try, but the Bloods shared a need for closeness that he simply couldn't fathom.
No Blood Falcon would ever sleep alone.
The other undressed, quite obviously an elder, being as he was decorated with a pattern of scars. None particularly deep, or even life threatening, but there were many, and they were everywhere.
The youngest was already under the covers. Although he knew he wouldn't sleep.
"Are you alright?" The eldest's hand gently touched the other's shoulder as he joined him. The reply was slow, hesitant... More of a statement than a question.
"We're going to die tomorrow."
"We might... I wont lie to you." The hand moved from his younger companion's shoulder, stroking across his face and through his hair. "We've all been through this before. If you're lucky, you may just be one of the one's to survive as long as I have."
"Why? Why do we have to live like this?" He lay his head upon the elder's chest, one of his fingers tracing along the patterns of scars. A glimpse into his future? If he was 'lucky'.
"It's the only way we can be free." The faintest of smiles crossed the elder's face as he watched that finger dance along his skin. Thankful that he still had some sensation, however minute, in that damaged flesh. Just enough to feel the touch of his brother. "This is bigger than you and me. This is for all of us. We destroy Falcon, we destroy them all... And we are free." The elder's fingers ran through his companion's hair in an act of reciprocal affection. "We comprimise for no man."
He may not have believed it, but he trusted the elder's words. He had been through this, and survived. He knew that tomorrow, he had to fight. There was a higher chance of survival than the alternative. Refusal to fight was to accept death completely.
"Is there anything I can do?" The elder spoke softly, hiding the fear in his voice extremely well, if only to reassure the youth. Taking the elder's hand, he sighed softly, pulling the arm around him so that his sank into the embrace.
"Just hold me."
No more words were spoken, no moves made.
That sleepless night was spent in each other's arms.