Title: The Worst Thing of All

Author: Random1

Rating: PG-13 – reference to RL violence, rape and torture. Discussions of themes of sadism. Oh, and there's a lot of swearing.

Summery: Rupert Giles, John Constantine, Jesse Custer and Billy Prior discuss the war in Iraq and the meaning of life.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. Giles is owned mostly by Joss Whedon, Constantine by Vertigo comics (whatever Keanu Reeves might think), Billy Prior belongs to Pat Barker, and Jesse Custer belongs to Garth Ennis and the nice people at Vertigo. I dunno who owns the Iraqi soldiers, although it's time someone took responsibility for them, but I think That Photograph belongs to the Daily Mirror, much joy my it have of it.

WARNING: Slightly disturbing themes. And they're not all fictional.

In a place that ought not to exist stands a group of men who ought never to have met one another, staring at photograph that ought never to have been taken. Silence reigns, as silence ought in situations like this, but they know that eventually it will be broken. No one wants to be the first to speak. There's nothing to say, nothing that's worth saying. They stare at the photograph, and the floor, and their feet, but not at each other, because to acknowledge the existence of another human being would be too much. Perhaps most of them hope at this point that they are dreaming. But they all know – all know absolutely implicitly – that the photograph is real. And that's the worst of it. The room might not be real, nor the situation, nor even the men themselves, but the photograph is.

And that is the worst thing of all.

They think the clichés. They think this is terrible, and this is unbelievable, and this is sickening. They think about sorrow and anger and revenge. They think about bitterness and futility and predictability, and they think, some of them, about the frailty of human existence and the darkness at the heart of the human soul. They think about good and evil, about forgiveness. And increasingly, they think about the silence.

What are we supposed to say? What are we supposed to do? No one speaks the question. But that's alright, because no one would have answered. A little while after the silence has become unbearable, someone finally speaks.

'We all saw it coming. Am I right?' No one nods. The question is rhetorical. Some of them had no way of seeing it coming. For some of them, this is almost entirely outside their sphere of experience. But they all know what he means. 'Human bloody nature, ennit? It's not even about the sodding price of oil, in the end. It's just about some vicious little buggers with no better way of getting their kicks.'

'You heartless bastard, John. It's about more than that. It has to be about more than that. Even now. Especially now.'

'But it's not, is it?' There's another silence. 'What do you want it to be about?' Constantine bursts out eventually. 'Literature? Magic? They all have souls, you know.'

'I'll kill 'em,' Jesse Custer bursts out. 'I'll shoot 'em all so goddamn dead they'll...'

'You won't, you know,' Giles interrupts. Custer stops short. 'You won't, and I'll give you two good reasons why not. One, you are, despite any protests you might have, one of the good guys that don't seem to actually exist out there. You wouldn't shoot in revenge.'

'Oh wouldn't I?' Custer mutters darkly, but Giles ignores him.

'And secondly...' He can't say it. The words are on the tip of his tongue, but he can't get them out. He sighs, shrugs. 'We don't matter,' he says, and it's not the answer he was looking for. 'We just...'

'That's how every body seems to think,' Custer growls. If people'd just...'

'Doesn't work like that. They can't, because... they can't. And we can't either. Because we could. But... we can't. Because...' The words still won't come. Constantine looks like he's got it for a moment, and then it slips away. Giles shakes his head and tries not to think about it.

'The thing that I don't get,' says Billy Prior, making everybody jump because they'd hardly noticed he was there. 'The thing that I don't get is that they...' He trails off and shakes his head.

'They what?' asks Custer. Prior just shakes his head again.

'They did it,' Giles says softly. Prior nods.

'They actually did it. I mean... they had them helpless and they... they didn't stop.' Custer looks confused.

'Oh don't tell me you don't get it,' Prior snaps. 'Just don't.'

'But... I don't.' Prior stares at the ceiling.

'Clothed. With them... naked. And... in your power. It's the oldest sadistic fantasy in the book. It's... don't tell me you've never...' Constantine's trying not to meet anyone's eyes. Giles polishes his glasses, very, very carefully.

'But I never have,' Custer says.

'Bollocks,' says Prior. 'I don't believe you. Not even thought about it?'

'God, no! What is this bullshit? Every man is a rapist just biding his time? I don't buy it, Billy. I don't want that. I don't understand why you would.'

Prior stares at him. 'You're weird,' he says flatly. Custer's about to rise to it, but Constantine interrupts.

'All he's trying to say is that... it's choices. It's all just choices. They... they didn't choose not to. And they could have done. Most people do. Most of the time. Well. Some people do. Sometimes. If there's something in it for them.' Prior glares. Giles shakes his head.

'But that's not the point!' Custer says. 'The point is, no one stopped them...'

'Well, who could've done? It's not in the best interests of the people with the power. And the people who care... people don't have that sort of power. Not ordinary people.'

'But... we do.'

Prior snorts. 'I bloody don't,' he points out.

'Anyway, that's not the point,' Giles says gently.

'What is the point then?'

'The point is... there is no point.' Custer sighs in exasperation. Constantine rolls his eyes.

'Listen up, cos I'm only going to say this once and then I'm never going to think about it ever again, right?' he says sharply. Custer nods vaguely.

'We could've done something about all this because we have the power, but the thing is, the reason is, see we can't actually do anything about anything, cos... cos we're...'

'Because we're not real,' Giles finally manages to spit it out. He still won't look any of them in the eye.

'Right.' Constantine can't repeat it, but he nods emphatically. 'Now, They are real, and so they could do something about it, but the thing is They're also powerless. They can't change a thing. So, They create us to make it all ok, and we do, for a little while, in another world.'

'I wonder if it helps,' Prior says, uncharacteristically softly.

'I don't know!' Constantine is angry. 'I just don't fucking know.'

'It sure didn't help those poor fellas,' Jesse says sadly, indicating the photograph. Giles wipes a hand across his eyes, and replaces his glasses.

'Maybe it helped someone,' he says. 'You have to think that, or what's the point in any of it?'

'I thought that the point was that there was no point,' Constantine says sarcastically.

Giles looks up.

'There has to be,' he says fiercely. Custer nods emphatically.

'But there isn't,' Prior says dully. Constantine shrugs.

And everything except the photograph fades back into nothingness.