The Jock, The Nerd and The Geek

Epilogue (Part Two)

Remembering it hurt, but talking about it felt... Freeing in a sense, and the fact that Paris was still with him, it made it easier to talk about it. "Why didn't you leave?"

He shrugged, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice. "I thought you both would come back. I don't know, I guess it hadn't hit me early that I had been stupid to be so... Dependent on you both."

"Marcos-"

"But I'm not upset about it," He cut in, quickly brushing away any stray tears that had managed to escape from his eyes. "It hurt, yes, but I learnt how to appreciate myself more, build my confidence. When you're alone, you learn how to study your flaws and fix them as much as you can, and I have. Something that wouldn't have happened if you kept babysitting me. Plus, the fact you went without warning was better because I suppose I'd have come earlier to find you but I didn't, so it's really okay."

Then he looked up at the male, a smile on his face. "But I'm interested in how your seven years had been without me, considering I used to be the only thing in your life that could make you smile."

"Highly debatable. Ryan Reynolds makes me smile."

"Gay," Marcos said in a sing song voice, causing Paris' face to twist into a grimace before he chuckled, saying, "I'm serious, Don. How was your first kill? Who was he? Why did you kill him?"

Paris stayed quiet for the first few minutes, his head resting back on the seat with his eyes closed, and the moment he opened them, the amber eyes looked cool, like burning coal simmering down as he said in a detached voice, "I don't remember his name, in time, with the more number of people you kill, it all distorts, but I remember that he was a human trafficker. Mostly took women and children, torturing them personally before shipping them off to more torturous places, and the fact that they always died so early meant having to restock continuously, their chain was ever moving, never one place. He was a slithery bastard so no one had any evidence to kill him."

"Then... Then why did you?"

"He owed the Carnefecina money," Paris said, letting out a tired sigh like talking of this sucked out the energy in him. "Not so much that it warranted death, but because Alexander wanted him dead and knew I wouldn't refuse. Plus, his death was wanted everywhere because he got the police looking at most of the lower houses too much, just that no one wanted to take the fall for the aftermath of it."

Marcos stared at him, now sitting up again so he could get a closer look at the male. Though his face remained unchanged from the blank one it had, it was obvious that doing it had done something, closed him off perhaps. Choosing to show no emotions than any.

Plus, he remembered the male never believed in punishing someone for their crimes, he used to believe in things being justified, things being on levelled ground, not using his powers for doing something that wasn't good even if the intentions were. "It wasn't... Easy, for you?"

The male let out a dark chuckle, a sound that surprised Marcos as he said, "Oh, it had been. Very easy. So easy that I emptied my rounds on him and found myself wishing I could destroy every trace of his existence. After, had been the problem. I didn't think I had any rights to kill anyone, besides, people like him would just be replaced with someone more worse, smarter, more careful. Shitty people are everywhere, Marcos, and they multiply like fucking viruses, I wouldn't even deny that I'm not one of them because I do like the power.

"But that's where the changes lie," He said like the mere thought disgusted him. "The world isn't as black and white as most people make it seem. Not everyone's good intention is as good as it sounds, but as long as good people like you exist, I have no problems staining my hands to keep them safe."