Chapter Text
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!
There was no way Victor was going to die now--like this. Shot by the damn crossbow killer, and then repeatedly stabbed by Harley fucking Quinn with his own tranquilizer dart.
It was just supposed to be Quinn and the kid. He should have been able to handle two little girls. He knew that. Roman knew that.
Oh Roman. Who would take care of him now? He was going to be alone, and it was all because of those stupid bitches. Quinn, the kid, the crossbow killer, and Roman’s traitorous little fucking bird were to blame for everything bad that was happening.
Maybe if Victor could hang on just long enough to help Roman one last time, it would all be worth it. Then he wouldn’t have let Roman down for the second time that day.
Fuck. As much as he tried to deny it, all of this really was his fault. If he had just let Canary hang on to the diamond till they got in the car, none of this would have happened. He knew even back then that he shouldn’t have taken the diamond, but he couldn’t resist seeing the thing that he helped murdered the Bertinelli family for. It would seem that curiosity did indeed kill the cat and throw Gotham’s entire underworld into chaos.
Victor tried in vain to get to his feet, or even to his knees so that he could crawl his way back to Roman. Sadly to no avail. He couldn’t move any part of his body. He had lost far too much blood--the leftover tranquilizer probably wasn’t helping, and he was close to losing consciousness. Once that happened, there would be no waking up again.
All he could do now was hope that Roman would survive and not be the one to find his body. He always hated corpses--thought they were gross. Killing itself wasn’t the problem. It was what came after that made Roman gag. He never forgot the look on the his boss’s face when he found out that people really do void their bowels when they die. Victor didn’t want him to remember him like that.
Maybe some lackey would find him--soon. Before he got too badly decomposed…
Fuck. He was so tired.
Victor had a good life. Well…he made it to his forties. That was significantly longer than he thought given his line of work. He’d do it all over again. Even after everything that had happened, even as his life flashed before his eyes…he had no regrets.
As Victor closed his eyes--never to open them again, he made sure his last thoughts were of Roman.