A/N: So I was really sad when I saw that there were very few Baccano! fanfics. I just got really into this series (it's awesome, if you haven't seen it, do so!) and I'm absolutely in love with it! So now I'm doing some drabbles whenever inspiration hits me, or at least until I get to fifty. I'm a big fan of Firo/Ennis, Jacuzzi/Nice (and just Jacuzzi in general, he's awesome), and Claire. Claire is just.... wow. I don't know how much I'll write about him though (or at least from his POV) since he's flat out CRAZY and would be really hard to write, but isn't that what makes a good character? Anyways, I don't know how often I'll get to update and these'll probably all be around this length, maybe a little longer.

This first one is just something that popped into my head. I think I was listening to a review on the series and someone said something like "Yeah... I don't think they can feel pain." I was like, "What? Are you kidding me? Do you think Czes didn't feel anything when his face was ground to bits against the railroad tracks?" Hence this slightly depressing drabble... It's more a rant than anything I guess, written in depressing form. I promise they won't all be this sad, I'll try to alternate comedy and drama. This particular one is in Firo's POV.

Pain: Firo's POV

The hard metal bullet penetrated the soft flesh in my chest and ripped its way down, through muscles, tendons, heart, bone, and whatever else fell in its way. Pain. Pain clouded my eyes, in the form of red mist. I knew I was on the ground; I knew wet, sticky, hot blood was flooding the alleyway; I knew I was going to die. And I did. For a second at least. At least that's what I think it was. Of course I've never actually died fully. But I stopped breathing, my blood stopped flowing, my heart stopped pumping, my brain shut down. Doesn't that qualify as dying?

At that second when my body was completely dead, my mind seemed to still work fine. In fact, it was better than fine. I could see clearer than I had in days. And I saw a girl in a slim black suit telling me about immortals. And then I was back. How could this be? The elixir? I was so confused but I hid my pain, my struggle, my confusion, and took the lead.

The pain eased minutes later when memories thundered through my restored brain and the confusion dissolved. Szilard's experiences were all mine now. And yet they weren't. I couldn't feel anything he could feel. I couldn't feel his pain.

Immortals are strange creatures. And I don't just say that because we live forever and are cannibals (in the most basic sense, at least). We feel pain. People don't expect it, but we do. A punch in the gut is a punch in the gut; everyone hurts the same afterward. Even though we heal, the agony of a thousand wounds reverberates inside our insignificant bodies. A few bullets to the chest are death to a normal human; at least their pain ends afterwards. Ours stretches on for eternity, or at least until we're eaten by another of our kind.

I've been talking to Czes lately. It's a bit depressing actually. He's still a kid at heart since he never actually matured, but he's suffered more pain than the rest of us put together, physical and mental. He thinks that the people who say pain gets easier as you get older are idiots. He says pain just gets worse and worse, especially if you expect it or wait for it to come. I agree with him. After 70 years of living, I've had enough pain myself.

None of us are actually immortal. We can't die, but once we're eaten by someone else we just become a memory. I know, Szilard had eaten plenty of us by the time I ate him. No, the true immortal, the only thing that lives on, is pain.

A/N: What do you think? Are my ramblings just crap or do you feel the same way? Let me know either way! Review please!