I'm not a hero, and I never have been.
Ironic considering the name of the game, I guess, but irony's a fickle mistress when she comes to play in my life. I'm not the hero the game's talking about, anyway. The player character is the hero. I'm the leader.
Being a hero, from my understanding of the subject, means throwing yourself into the thick of battle no matter the cost, fighting for something bigger than yourself. Being the leader means dragging the hero's sorry, bullet-riddled butt out of harm's way and pointing them in the right direction. Bravery and valor don't mean much when all they seem to do is get you eaten up like day-old leftovers.
Fix-It is a hero, and he always has been.
I could tell right away when I saw those big baby beluga eyes looking up at mine down the barrel of a gun. And it bugged me right off the bat. I mean, I'd never run into a situation where that was a good thing. The ones that lept right in like he'd (literally) lept into my world were the ones that got taken down first.
Maybe I felt a little protective of him because of that. Because I was used to keeping heroes in line.
Fix-It had no idea what he was getting himself into. Not surprising at all, but still worth mentioning. First sign of trouble he couldn't handle and he cracked. Darn near went totally nuts and got himself drowned if I hadn't been there to snap him out of it. But somehow, somehow the little clown was able to turn things around. He turned the worst possible-and somewhat painful-situation into something good. Heroes do that. They hope for stuff. I never hoped for anything, not for a very long time.
I guess I kind of liked that. It's stupid. Really REALLY stupid, but it was kind've nice that things all wrapped up nice and clean for once. He made it seem so easy to expect the best out of life, and it rubbed off on me like an infectious disease. And that's a darn good metaphor in this case, because I'm pretty sure I actually was sick for a while.
Fix-It called it the "honeyglows" (of course he would, the adorable little pansy). I was pretty sure it was more like a malignant cancer that was fighting against everything I believed in. Because being around him made it too easy to let my guard down. It made it too easy to be vulnerable, and to believe in the garbage I gave up a long time ago. Hopes and dreams and sparkly rainbows or whatever.
It made me want to believe things would turn out just fine. Even if I managed to come back from Crazyland before I made a permanent residence there, he'd made me feel that way when nobody...except one person, had been able to. I hated it. I hated feeling weak and I hated him for making me feel that way. Ditching him had been the best choice I could make, considering the circumstances.
And he forgave me for it. I mean, how ridiculous is that? He wasn't mad at all when we met again, not full of anger and upset like I was. He was just happy. I guess that's the thing about heroes: they really do hope for the best in every situation. He believed in me, and he didn't expect me to be sorry for doing what I had to. He stood by me when I needed him, and would not abandon me or the little kid that needed his protection, even in the face of certain and final death.
Maybe that's what did it for me. I don't really know, nor do I really care to waste time figuring it out. He was a real hero. Not just words or ideas or silly hopping around and hammering. He lived by a code and he would have died by it, if he had to. I respect that about him. Over time, I'd even say I've come to love it.
Felix is my hero, and he always will be.
