A Regret That Can't Be Changed

"People don't always get what they deserve in the world."
-Lemony Snicket

It was silent. Unexpected for such a busy city like Gotham. The silence was almost welcomed. But the sound of her laboured breath brought him back to reality. Her skin was deathly white, a fair difference from the normal rosy complexion her skin held.

He still felt the weight in his arms from when she collapsed. He felt like he was holding the world, and in a strange way...he was.

Slade Wilson didn't care for anyone. He didn't show anything besides what he wanted to be seen. There was a reason he was such a famous mercenary. He had the ability to feel but he chose not to. It's easier to get a job done that way.

But seeing her here. Seeing her choke on nothing but air. Seeing the blood on his hands, made him feel something.

And seeing the knife he used to stab her with...

He hadn't known Marinette for long. She was just another vigilante in Gotham working with the bats. But she was different and he could see that, every time they fought.

She held herself with such a grace one could mistake her for an angel, but her precision was deadly. She never let herself get that far though.

They had met tonight when she intervened in a job Slade was doing. They were both angry but for quite different reasons, but they were not angry at each other.

Slade had found an opening and he had exploited it. His blade pierced her skin in her abdominal area all the way through to her spine. And when he did he dropped the blade immediately, guilt hitting his conscience.

She collapsed in his arms, he couldn't bear to hold the weight and collapsed with her. Her head resting on his lap as he stroked the hair away from her eyes.

Her lips quivered and a stray tear made its way down her cheek.

He knew. And so did she. She was going to die. And there was nothing to save her now.

Slade had never experienced regret before, or at least not in a very long time. So the feeling became unfamiliar to him.

He hadn't known Marinette long but in the time he did, he respected her. She was a worthy opponent to fight against. She did not deserve death, especially not at such a young age.

A blind man could see that.

But one could not change the past. So he did the only thing he could do in the situation he was in. He held her. He stroked her hair as a father would to his daughter. But he was no father and she was no daughter. They were near strangers.

It was silent. Unexpected for a city like Gotham. Only that sound of his own breath could be heard.

Slade Wilson didn't care for others. But he found he made a mistake in taking the life of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

He gently laid his fingers over her lifeless eyes, closing them.

"I am sorry, little one."