Author's Note: Just one more after this.
Summary: Leon ponders his actions, as Jill ponders her lack of.
Rating: T
Regret
Chapter Five: Too
By: Mazzie May
Jill quietly ran the tip of her index finger down the wearing lamination of the old 9x13 picture over and over again. It was a picture of all the STARS members, besides Rebecca Chambers. But Jill never really considered her apart of the team.
Next to each individual was a date and time of when they died, and a small description how. She, Chris and Barry were still alive technically, but she had dates and times and descriptions writing on them anyway. Their hearts were beating and they still breathed, but that was about it.
She watched nearly all of them die, and more than half of them she could've prevented. But she'd been too something that didn't allow her to help them. It was bad enough she couldn't help her friends, but she couldn't save any civilian's either. How much use was she, full of emotion; too shocked to help Joseph, too late to help Ken, too scared to help Forrest, too slow to help Richard, too oblivious to help Enrico, too weak to help Brad, too numb to help Mikihal.
She watched them all die, and did nothing for them. Well, she held Richard's hand and told him that it was going to be over soon. And she gave Mikihal one last purpose in life, that he thanked her for, before blowing himself up and the NEMESIS out. She had to change the way she was, if she was ever going to do more than be the last thing people see.
Jill was very mechanical now; it made things easier for her. Thinking of people as things and not emotionally attaching herself to anything except for Luke and Carlos was very good for her. Sometimes, when she and Leon would go out for dinner, she'd let herself a semi-smile. But whatever warmth she allowed in was gone the instant his hand left hers and she was back to the ice queen.
How could she have a good time, knowing how many different blood types stained her hands? What she felt the most guilt over was Brad. Brad tired to warn her, tried to tell her about NEMESIS, but she just didn't really listen to him until it was too late. Again, too something. The way she repaid his meager heroism was pawing his corpse hastily for his identification card, tearing his vest and even some skin. All she could think was "Now that Brad's dead, it'll come after me." That's how she saw all their deaths; whatever was done with them, would come after her.
She stroked the picture and fingered Luke. By the time she had time to mourn for Brad Vickers she'd already promised herself no more tears. She didn't get to cry for Brad. And though she never really got over his little chicken shit stunt at the estate, she missed him. She missed them all. But she had to live with it.
She killed them all.
Author's Note: Yeah, that was tiny. But I couldn't make it longer without ripping off "Paranoia". My Bad.
R&R Please