I'm sorry for not updating in months, but I lost the original copy, was dragged down by school, and that just took th eenergy out of it. I updated out out of moral principal of never having undone work, to not feel guilty about, because I made a promise to, and because I gained two new watchers. I'm going to make another fanfic, but it will be for Joker Game, and not nearly as dark. Please enjoy. I'm sorry, by the way.
Comic book heroes from days past dominated all the stories that Alfred wanted to see. From big to small screen, to comic books themselves and novels. It wasn't the superpowers that entranced Alfred; it was their heart and souls. Heroes who were heroes no matter what happened, who ultimately helped the world be a better place, had the the ability to make the world a better place, and had pure and noble souls. Stories of such heroes who fought evil of both selfish black hearted villains and poor misguided souls nourished his soul in a world which didn't make sense anymore. They never made things worse.
Mattie, why are they bleeding, why are they all bleeding, why did you kill England, why did you mur- kill- hurt everybody? Why did you do this Mattie? They didn't deserve this, I was the one in the wrong-
"For getting raped?" Mattie flashes a smile that looks like he's worn it a lot, like it has worn into his skin and eroded part of his soul. His eyes are wide and gaunt, yellowish and a little bloodshot. Alfred backed up and almost fell down- what the hell happened to his little brother? Mattie- Matthew resets his face and just looks tired again, like he hasn't been sleeping since he was a baby, like he only got enough rest in his entire life only to grow before being starved and beaten and shrunk down.
Maybe the bloodshot eyes are because he's tired. Violent and tired. Do I look like that? Alfred was the one who got raped after all.
"Alfie, I just..."
Just what? Wanted to pay back vengeance? Wanted to protect your own skin? Wanted to protect others? Wanted to protect... me?
"am very tired." Oh. So you don't care whether I live or die. You never cared, nobody ever cared. Nobody cares now, and they will never care in the future. ... Maybe I'm just being selfish. Why should anyone care about me? Well, they should care if I fuck up, but why would they want me to be happy? To pacify me and make sure that I don't do anything stupid, I guess. I'm idiotic. I'm dumb. I never should've had existed.
"Alfie? Are you okay?" Matthew looks up and down and him, and his expression turns fearful. Is he afraid that I'm going to hurt him? I would never hurt you Mattie. I would rather kill myself than let myself hurt you. He tells Matthew this and his eyes widen in shock. Matthew gives him a bear hug, and Alfred does all he can take on not immediately hurting him, his twin brother, his better half. "Alfie, I was just saying that I'm very tired of everything that has happened to you and me and everyone. I wanted to make sure that they would never hurt us ever again."
Alfred can't say that it was bad if Mattie did it for the sake of other people, especially since Alfred would give his own life to make sure that something so utterly terribly diabolic and evil could never happen to anyone else, and he, too, daydreamed from time to time how wonderful it would feel to have their blood run down his body as he destroyed them completely and utterly, broken as he was broken. However, he didn't know why Mattie wanted to protect him as well. How they could something so evil- unpleasant and disgusting and gross and I want to vomit and leave and get this sickness out of me- even though he knows no matter how hard he tries, he will never feel clean again. Whole again. Happy again. He will never be who he once was.
"How come they all did it to me? How can so many people decide that I'm the problem and be wrong about it? They weren't dumbasses, Mattie."
"They were all people who created the problem by never clearing it up and would rather save their own skins than to not become a Judas. They did it to you, so they would have absolutely no compulsions towards hurting anyone else. They knew you, raised you, and fought for you. If they were fine doing all of that to a child, then they would have no problems doing it absolutely anyone else. ... Including me."
Alfred's widened, and his body felt like the strings inside it were pulled taut, with everything feeling tense and tired, like the body couldn't resist against the rope that pulled himself together and held him whole. It felt as if the strings inside the marionette that was him compacted his organs and gave them rope burn. "What?"
"They knew you, and loved you more than me. If they would do it to someone like you-"
"But-but you're wrong, Mattie, there's no way they-"
"Alfie-"
"But you're so good, and pure and innocent! You have never done anything wrong, you're my little brother, Mattie, and-"
"I have done evil as well as you or anyone else." Matthew turned his head to the side. "They just didn't didn't complain as much as they did with you."
"But you're good, and-"
"I committed genocide, Alfie. I murdered an entire eight nations' worth of people. And all those people were rapists who would do that to even my little brother." Matthew sighed. "Of all the people in the world, you are the closest to sinless, as strange as it sounds."
"That's not a good thing." Alfred's words choke his voice, breaking it a little. "I've done so many bad things, so how can I best the most innocent?"
"... Everyone else really is evil, Alfie. There's no other way to put it."
"But, of all the things that I've done: Vietnam, Iraq-"
"All of that is small potatoes to mass rape and genocide. When they raped you, they also raped your people. And those people will spread the trauma to their children, and their grandchildren, and their grandkid's grandchildren, because when everyone has been put through that, when you have no where else to go... You just keep the trauma. Because you can't get rid of it."
"A mass rape?! What the fucking hell? How the hell did people mass rape my house?"
"By raping you. You are America, so they affected the people, too."
"But Mattie, that means that-"
"You didn't fail your people."
"SO HOW DID THREE HUNDRED MILLION PEOPLE GET RAPED THEN?"
"You- they did it to-"
"So it's my fault that-"
"NOTHING IS YOUR FAULT! YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING, THEY DID! You didn't get yourself raped, they drugged you and tied you up! You didn't cause this war, if- if anything, you- it's YOU that almost prevented it! You just wanted to make sure that it wouldn't happen again, but those idiot fucking hosers-" Matthew started to choke on his words, and coughed until he cried, and he cried even when he collapsed to the bloodless floor of their home and Alfred held him in his arms. Matthew didn't stop crying until every tear that had nested inside him for the past year was finally exorcised from him. Alfred tried to not do so as well, in order to be strong for his little brother, but even ended up crying a little. It was only a little bit though: he didn't feel sad so much as dead.
Alfred looked at the DVD in his hand. Captain America. In the 1950s, they decided that since the war was over, that America wasn't needed anymore. Just stow him away, until we want him again. Alfred considered telling Mattie about the movie in the hope that Mattie would force him to watch it for movie night tonight. He can already hear what he'll say: "Alfie, I know you really want to see it, so don't be so unsure about yourself. You are a hero, Alfie, and the best person that I know."
Alfred was merely at fault for eight countries getting destroyed, but other than that, Mrs. Lincoln... He wonders what his former boss Lincoln would've thought of this. That man was respondsible for removing the hypocrisy in him, but he didn't know if he would've stood by as all of this had happened.
It said something that the man who weathered through a civil war, being a slave-holding country, and three world wars would not- might not stand through this.
Once again, Alfred wonders about fashioning a pair of sticks together in order to physically force himself to smile. Not because he fears them hurting him, though he knows it will be painful when they see the naiive idiot not smiling and everyone will blame themselves for what happened. Philly will cry and try to hold him because she is a little girl- his little girl, someone harmles- someone who won't harm him. He can already hear that prayer that she used to whisper sparingly in times of hell that she now uses almost everytime he sees her. Soft like a song, pleading like she's arguing for life.
All Shall Be Well, and all Shall Be Well, and All Mannner of things shall be well.
He pauses mid step and remembers the story behind those words. Julian of Norwich wished to experience absolute remorse and death while still alive, along with compassion and understanding of what it truely meant to bear the sins of the whole world. Her body was attacked by demons, and she fell into such a sickness that she almost died before she briefly taken into Heaven, and told that no matter what happens, in the very end, all shall be well.
He, for the most part, could understand it. But things in the end will not be well- because bad things happen afterwards. There is no "end" when the world is still alive. This is impossible because things don't end, they just continue going on.
... Though bad things will end, though. Good things too. All shall be well, after all. The affects of War Two even today still rung around the world, so there was never really an end to that, though at least the Holoucaust was stopped. That even though some people still bear the scars of that time, atleast they are no longer in the ghettos or death camps.
"Primo Levi died at Auschwitz forty years later". Of course, not everyone was cleansed of suffering the moment it stopped being inflicted on you. Sometimes it was like a scar that kept hurting, and would remain a part of you as if it was etched onto your soul.
Maybe he was just in a mood. Maybe he should talk to his doctor about his antideppressents. It seemed that no matter what he switched to, the pain never full went away. Even when he was happier, he was less than what he should be. It was like everything was taken down a level. If something would had given him X amount of happiness and energy before, it only gave Y amount now. What was the point if he couldn't change things, if could never fully heal? Might as well be miserable.
But wouldn't you rather be happy? Isn't it pleasant to be happy?
Ugh. He decided to respond to the voice in his head. Yes, it's nice to be happy, but I don't think that I can be happy again. Things will never go back to how they were before.
True the voice said, suprisingly, not being like an old Disney cartoon that was filled with singing sunflowers and cows and suns, and tasted so sweet it was gross and nausious. But why don't you try making a new path?
Because I'm just very tired, and I only do enough to avoid pain.
But if if you work towards it, eventually you will gain more energy, esspecially if you do things that you like.
I force myself to do everything, so it's hard to tell what I like. What am I supposed to do!?
Rely on your friends. They will do anything you ask to make you happy again.
Alfred was about to argue before he paused, tripping on his words and plunging head first into memories. Everything that they had done was to help him, and did indeed sacrifice a lot. Holding his hand while he woke up sleeping, enduring him as he kept switching his medication, trying to get him to anything that thought would make him happy... They really did care about him. A while nobody knew exactly what they were supposed to do, they all had done they best that they could. Yeah... Yeah, he really should rely on them more. Not like having them do more things, but fully accepting their help and coming to them for aid. He wasn't weak. If he was weak, than he would allow himself to stay broken forever. No, weakness was invincibility, but it was getting up afterwards. Alfred called them all up for movie night, buying both that DVD, and the one where they assembled the team. I hope they get the message. he though before realizing that yes, they would.
And all was well.
