by Faye Dartmouth
Comments to: fayedartmouth@hotmail.com
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Angel Dark, Demon Bright
Summary: Followup to D Minus Zero - possibly noncanon
Archive: Sure just let me know where.
Disclaimers: I don't own them. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction.
Note: Okay, I figure this is another entry in Harper's little recording he was making that for the
life of me I can't remember the name of. The way he said, "We win" really made me think that
he realized that revenge was really not so great.
Okay, okay. I know this was supposed to be my victory speech and all, since well, you know, I
just blew up two thirds of the Nietzschean fleet. So I was supposed to be all excited and
everything. But, for some reason, I just can't feel that way. And for the life of me, I can't figure
out why.
For years, ever since I was a kid, I've wanted to get back at the Nietzscheans. I wanted to take
their pompous survivalist ways and shove them down their conceited throats. That's what they
deserved. After everything they put me, my family, all of earth through, they deserved to be
killed. Every last one of them. And I've been dying to exact my revenge. I finally did. So why do
I feel like this?
You know, I think our fearless leader's moral ways are rubbing off on me. He has all these
thoughts about honor and humanity and fairness-I mean, the guy beats himself up for hours
before he decides to make a course change.
Maybe, just maybe, his righteous ways are a little infectious. Maybe I'm feeling a little. guilty.
Now I know what you're thinking. You're saying, "Harper, they aren't worth your guilt! They're
self-serving, ruthless people, who never seemed to care one iota about you when they raided
your home time and time again. What's there to feel guilty about?" And I understand all that.
That's been my thought for the last ten years now. But I can't shake this feeling that I just had a
huge part in killing people. I mean, it's different when it really happens. In my fantasies, it was
never like this. Those people weren't real. But these people, even if they were Nietzscheans,
were real.
Somewhere way back when, I remember being taught the difference between right and wrong.
And for some reason, my parents liked to tell me that killing was at times necessary, but when it
was in cold blood, it was wrong.
That was what distinguished us from the Nietzscheans and the Magog. I guess I believed them,
but their little moral lessons had a hard time sticking. It's hard for a kid to know the difference
between right and wrong, when everything in their lives is wrong. There's no real comparative
they can relate to. So then right and wrong become the same thing. Killing and murdering begin
to blur together. But I think I'm finally beginning to see that line.
I'm afraid to ask if I crossed it because I think I know the answer. I mean, I built that device to
kill those Nietzscheans. I wanted to slaughter them, blast them to oblivion, and I was really
excited about it. I thought I was saving the world. I was giving them their dues. But when those
ships began to explode, I reminded myself of something. I reminded myself of a Nietzschean. I
had just exterminated thousands without remorse, without as much as a second thought. I killed
them because they deserved to die. Just like they killed us because they thought we deserved to
die.
But we won. I did it. I saved the world. I got my revenge. And where did it get me? Nowhere.
Only now there's blood on my hands. I've never been big on religion, but I wonder if the divine
that Rev's always talking about will ever forgive me. But I got my victory. But what did I win?
I'm right back where I began. I still remember the pains of my childhood, the universe is still
unfair, my immune systems still doesn't work, and I'm still angry. Somehow I know though, that
I'll never be the same again.