Work Text:
When I fall, the others don’t see it.
Where I land, it’s always beneath them.
Always the less cared of the bunch, as if I don’t matter that much. Taking, the first punch.
My feelings, as I do have those, still hurt.
But they think I’m tough and uncaring, a soulless blur.
And so, I don’t matter to them all that much.
Another hit and a fall… does it really matter anymore?
“Hey Cross, you okay? It looked kinda nasty just then, the fall.”
“Why do you even care?”
“But, I do.”
“And so do the rest of us too, Cross!”
Confusion, surprise for the sniper present there just then.
“Come on then, let’s have a look at your wound.”