Disclaimer: Ishinomori's, not mine
--
Jet's been in some sort of fight all his life. He fought with his parents, he fought gang members, he fought himself every cold night when giving up seemed easier than trying to survive on the streets. The only thing that kept him going those times was knowing that no matter what, no matter how bad things seemed, somehow, he'd come out on top like always.
He wasn't so sure he could win this fight.
This wasn't the Bronx. This was some new world, a mix between dream (nightmare, really) and reality that existed only for him and the eight other people the Black Ghost saw fit to experiment on. It was a world made up of measuring things by mach and kilohertz and machines that came straight of the old sci-fi movies he used to sneak into as a kid, a world of an excessive chain made up of of battle after battle. Each time, they barely made it out alive. He knew that there would be a time they didn't.
"Jet?" He turned around and there was Heinrich, the member of the team who arguably had the most right to be angry at the world... but wasn't. Or if he was, Jet had yet to see it. "Chang's made dinner. Aren't you coming?"
"Not hungry."
"Fine. I'll just go and tell Chang that you don't want to eat the amazing dinner he spent hours working on."
"Okay, okay! I'll be there in second!" For someone as borderline serene as Heinrich, he had quite the mean streak at times. As he began changing into normal clothes (he hadn't bothered after the last raid, Albert didn't even try to look away, but Jet didn't care), he decided he had to know. "How the hell do you do it?"
"I'm sorry?"
"We're fighting for our lives everyday, and it doesn't seem to phase you-- or anything else, now that I think about. How can you live like that?"
"Who said I do?" That wasn't the answer he expected to hear. "I've... lost a lot in my life," Albert continued, his voice a little softer than before. "And sometimes it's too much too bear. If it weren't for--"
Seeing Albert this vulnerable was surreal. "Weren't for what?"
Looking uncharacteristically embarrassed, Albert rubbed the back of his neck with the gun hand. "Well... I see you acting so tough all the time and I figure if I can match that, I'll be all right."
More surprised than anything else, Jet pulled the faded T-shirt over his head and closed the distance between them. He was planning on saying something, but somehow it was forgotten when he kissed him. It started out slow and a little awkward, but quickly built up into something more.
When he pulled away, Albert looked as collected as he always did. "At this rate, we're both going to be late for dinner."
"If we ask nice, he might re-heat it."
"You may have a point..."
