Disclaimer: I own nothing, although I wouldn't refuse David Krumholtz if anyone offered to give him to me.
Fallen
They were dominoes. Or, rather, they used to be.
Dominoes. The faceless victims of more mindless violence than he'd thought possible.
But he had given them faces. Faces, and names, and identities. And in that instant, they'd become real.
Real people, real children, real innocents caught in the crossfire. The human factor.
It was one of the reasons he was far more comfortable with numbers – they didn't have personalities, weird quirks, and loved ones. No friends or enemies. They just were. Like the dominoes.
He shook his head slowly as he stared at the countless photos.
He had had to see their faces.
But finally, he turned away, back to the numbers, and the links between them that would bring justice.
Because even though he knew that one man couldn't bring peace, he also knew that it had to start somewhere.
A/N: Cheesy, I know. But you can review anyway, if you'd like.