Damian saw Max walk over to the table he was sitting at. He nodded in acknowledgement of Max taking a seat but he did not say anything. He was deep in thought about the other rocket members.
"Most of them are so young. I wonder if they know what they are in store for." Damian thought to himself looking over at the other rockets. Looking down at his hands he didn't see clean hands, he saw dirty hands. Hands that have done terrible things, hands that have caused pain and suffering. No matter how much he cleaned his hands he could never again have clean hands.
Some of the other rockets look like they have never done a bad thing in their life. He wondered if they were prepared to do what they were told, to cause pain to another, to kill if necessary. He had learned early on that he was nothing more than a tool, something to be used and thrown away when his use was gone. Damian knew his way out was gone now and all he could do is move forward. He wondered how the other members would handle the pressure.
Damian got up and walked to the bar to order a beer. He did not consider himself an alcoholic but the alcohol helped him cope. Some of his past squad mates said that he drank too much but he always ignored them. He walked back to the table with his beer in hand. He took a sip of the beer, it had a bad taste but he did not care about it. "Tastes like shit." He thought to himself.
"The beer here tastes like shit doesn't it sir." Damian said to break the silence.
"Most of them are so young. I wonder if they know what they are in store for." Damian thought to himself looking over at the other rockets. Looking down at his hands he didn't see clean hands, he saw dirty hands. Hands that have done terrible things, hands that have caused pain and suffering. No matter how much he cleaned his hands he could never again have clean hands.
Some of the other rockets look like they have never done a bad thing in their life. He wondered if they were prepared to do what they were told, to cause pain to another, to kill if necessary. He had learned early on that he was nothing more than a tool, something to be used and thrown away when his use was gone. Damian knew his way out was gone now and all he could do is move forward. He wondered how the other members would handle the pressure.
Damian got up and walked to the bar to order a beer. He did not consider himself an alcoholic but the alcohol helped him cope. Some of his past squad mates said that he drank too much but he always ignored them. He walked back to the table with his beer in hand. He took a sip of the beer, it had a bad taste but he did not care about it. "Tastes like shit." He thought to himself.
"The beer here tastes like shit doesn't it sir." Damian said to break the silence.