This was why he couldn't stand her type. People that thought rank meant anything. People that were consumed with so much self importance with their little "missions" that they thought that meant anything at all when what mattered was what you did.
"You didn't earn the 'S,'" he said. "You can't just slap on a costume and say you're a hero and your rank means nothing."
He wasn't wearing the symbol right now, partly because of what she had done. What she and Spence and General Lane had done, but seeing it on her chest made him realize that maybe he still deserved to have it on his own. Or at least maybe he really could earn back the right to wear it again.
"You wanna know why I'm better than you? Because that's what this is about, right? About you people thinking people like me are looording it over people like you. Because of all your insecurity and fragile little egos."
He remembered something Kal told him, when he'd asked him about his fight with Prime after his death. Kal had told him what he'd said to Prime during that fight. Prime had wanted to be wanted. Needed. For him, it hadn't been about actually doing the right thing, actually helping people.
Kal said he'd found the words partly by thinking of him, of his sacrifice, what he'd given up in saving the world, the choices he'd made.
"It's not about where or how you were born. Or what powers you have. Or what you wear on your chest. It's about what you do. It's about action." He pointed at her chest. "You can wear that symbol all you like, you can pull any rank you like, but it still doesn't change that the whole time you've worn that symbol, the actions you've taken have been doing things like torturing me and killing people or dragging innocent aliens in to get experimented on. And the whole time I wore it, I saved people. Billions. Because they deserved saving. Because it was right. Because I could."
He knew someone was under there, knew she had the tiniest bit of humanity. There were times she'd hesitated during certain things. Times she'd almost kind of been nice, like she forgot he wasn't supposed to be a person. He could've kept fighting, kept being angry, but he'd spent so much time consumed with pain and rage that he didn't want let it roil inside him forever.
He opted for being human. Or at least human in the sense of being a person rather than a symbol, rather than some idea she could fight against.
So when the tears came, this time he didn't stop them, like all the other times he'd had to. He was safe enough now that he could just hurt, just be. Nothing she could do could ever hurt him as much as he'd already been hurt. And sometimes the strongest thing you could do was just let yourself be what you were and feel what you felt.
"I just wanted to help people. That's all I've ever wanted to do," he said, voice quavering, tears pouring down his face, his voice suddenly making the short years of his life abundantly clear. He sounded almost like a child begging someone to explain why he'd been punished. "So tell me why I deserved that! Tell me, when I've been around all of about five years and I've spent all five of 'em helping people, what I did to deserve getting vivisected! What I deserved to get beaten by Spence nearly every damn day! Tell me! What was it I did wrong? Was it saving the world from Prime? All the people I saved in Hawaii? In Metropolis?"
He screamed, his voice anguished, "Because that never made me think I was better than anyone else! All it did was make me think I didn't deserve what you people did to me! All did it was make me think I deserved to be treated like a person instead of a thing!"
no subject
"You didn't earn the 'S,'" he said. "You can't just slap on a costume and say you're a hero and your rank means nothing."
He wasn't wearing the symbol right now, partly because of what she had done. What she and Spence and General Lane had done, but seeing it on her chest made him realize that maybe he still deserved to have it on his own. Or at least maybe he really could earn back the right to wear it again.
"You wanna know why I'm better than you? Because that's what this is about, right? About you people thinking people like me are looording it over people like you. Because of all your insecurity and fragile little egos."
He remembered something Kal told him, when he'd asked him about his fight with Prime after his death. Kal had told him what he'd said to Prime during that fight. Prime had wanted to be wanted. Needed. For him, it hadn't been about actually doing the right thing, actually helping people.
Kal said he'd found the words partly by thinking of him, of his sacrifice, what he'd given up in saving the world, the choices he'd made.
"It's not about where or how you were born. Or what powers you have. Or what you wear on your chest. It's about what you do. It's about action." He pointed at her chest. "You can wear that symbol all you like, you can pull any rank you like, but it still doesn't change that the whole time you've worn that symbol, the actions you've taken have been doing things like torturing me and killing people or dragging innocent aliens in to get experimented on. And the whole time I wore it, I saved people. Billions. Because they deserved saving. Because it was right. Because I could."
He knew someone was under there, knew she had the tiniest bit of humanity. There were times she'd hesitated during certain things. Times she'd almost kind of been nice, like she forgot he wasn't supposed to be a person. He could've kept fighting, kept being angry, but he'd spent so much time consumed with pain and rage that he didn't want let it roil inside him forever.
He opted for being human. Or at least human in the sense of being a person rather than a symbol, rather than some idea she could fight against.
So when the tears came, this time he didn't stop them, like all the other times he'd had to. He was safe enough now that he could just hurt, just be. Nothing she could do could ever hurt him as much as he'd already been hurt. And sometimes the strongest thing you could do was just let yourself be what you were and feel what you felt.
"I just wanted to help people. That's all I've ever wanted to do," he said, voice quavering, tears pouring down his face, his voice suddenly making the short years of his life abundantly clear. He sounded almost like a child begging someone to explain why he'd been punished. "So tell me why I deserved that! Tell me, when I've been around all of about five years and I've spent all five of 'em helping people, what I did to deserve getting vivisected! What I deserved to get beaten by Spence nearly every damn day! Tell me! What was it I did wrong? Was it saving the world from Prime? All the people I saved in Hawaii? In Metropolis?"
He screamed, his voice anguished, "Because that never made me think I was better than anyone else! All it did was make me think I didn't deserve what you people did to me! All did it was make me think I deserved to be treated like a person instead of a thing!"