Title: Outsiders - "Bruise" (1/8)
Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 371
Summary: Eddie's dying thoughts.
Author's Notes: Written for a drabble exchange/challenge (prompt: KT Tunstall's Funnyman). Also, every word is basically a spoiler – avoid if you haven't read the novel/seen the movie.
As he lives, and as he dies, he tells himself that he's not a monster. He can't be a monster if he has no morals. He can't be an angel either – but then, who can?
As he falls, he remembers all the dying faces of all the people he slaughtered, and he remembers grinning while they died. He remembers all the whores he paid, all the women he raped, all the children he killed.
He remembers Sally. He remembers his daughter. He remembers sneaking into the hospital the day she was born, just to see what she looked like, and Sally catching him. He expected her to yell, to scream and throw him out, but she didn't. She just looked at him and looked at Laurie and cried. He wanted to tell her that her daughter – their daughter – was beautiful. He walked away instead. Sally cried harder.
He remembers what she said to him nine months before. Both of them were a little drunk, a little lonely, and a little in love with each other, but neither admit to any of it. Uncharacteristically, he took his time with her, memorizing every shudder, every gasp, every whisper of a sound her skin made against his. Still, it ended, and after, she said, softly, sadly, "You're like a bruise that never goes away, Eddie. The best I can do is to cover it up."
He didn't know what to say to that, so he just kissed her, savoring these moments before the inevitable occurred, before she remembered herself and hated him again.
The last thing he remembers before he dies is the last time he saw her. He feels her eyes, flashing with hate and disgust and disappointment. He hears Laurie stomping away as fast as her boots will let her, taking her teenaged annoyance out on the sidewalk because she can't take it out on her mother just yet. He sees Sally's face, aged and angry but still beautiful.
Just before he hits the ground, he admits to himself that he is a monster. He's a monster for what he did to her. He's a monster for refusing her the happiness she deserved. He's a monster for letting her go.