Fandom: Greatest American Hero
Written for: Jo Z Pierce in the Yuletide 2007 Challenge
by Merlin Missy
The sign in the driveway calls it an "active adult community," but he knew it was an old folks' home when he moved into the small bungalow - not big enough to call it a house - and his opinion hasn't changed. Someone comes in to cook his meals and clean for him. Some of the other old bastards who live here have people to wipe their asses, but he's already sworn to swallow his pistol if it comes to that.
The others have kids, grandkids, nieces and nephews coming at weekends and on the holidays. Della, his next door neighbor, always has some small, sticky child over to visit, running up and down the hallway that shares a wall with his place.
No one ever comes to see him. All his old partners are dead. John was the best of them, and he lights a candle once a year to remember, but John's family is all gone now too.
All his friends are gone except for the one in the red pajamas, and he's on the television all the time still: sightings, news reports. Ralph, Pam and the kids have had to move around and change their identities plenty of times. Maxwell's not willing to change. Once in a blue moon, he'll get a postcard with no names, and he'll know.
The world moves on, he figures.
Tuesday night is "poker night," which means it's "beer and cigars night" for any of the fellas not restricted by doctor's orders. As Maxwell crushes an Ace-Queen two-pair against him, Roy asks, "Anyone comin' in for the holidays?"
He shakes his head and puts in a cautious chip, hoping to make some cash on this. Della has invited him to have Christmas dinner with her and her family next door. While he likes her company, and appreciates that she's kept herself slim and busy, the thought of sitting at a table with her entire brood of runny-nosed, noisy grandkids sounds only slightly less appealing than a root canal.
"Too bad," says Joey. Joey's got fifteen grandkids. "A family makes a man feel like he's part of something."
Maxwell holds his cards, and he thinks that he was part of something once, part of something great, and these toothless old jerks are never going to know, never going to understand.
He smiles. He nods. And he keeps his cards against his chest.