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Oct. 9th, 2006 06:19 pmAlec felt sick.
Sick to his stomach and sick to the ohgods I'm covered in slime and I'll never get it off. He had already thrown up everything, and tried to do it again, twice. He still felt like throwing up.
He sat in the shower, warm water pouring over his head, forehead resting on his knees. He had tried scrubbing himself - but it still didn't get rid of the feeling. So now he just sat.
He could remember exactly what it felt like; being the Gary Stu again. It wasn't the power that got to him. It was how he felt. Like a god. An uncaring, frivolous, sparkly god, completely selfish without care for the multiverse - caring only for what he wanted. Everything that he tried not to be he had been.
His arm had been healed -but that had only lasted until he was knocked unconcious - but it had been healed because Gary Stus didn't get injured. At least not like that. No crippling injuries for them. It had just been healed, like it never had been injured. He remembered thinking, Why should I have to suffer so? It's stupid. I can do anything. and then the arm was healed. He wanted it healed, and it was healed.
Power without limits and with complete control. A god. He had been a god. Horrible. Disgusting. Wrong.
Just wrong. In so many different ways. He was no god. Gods controled life or death.
He heaved again, but nothing came out.
He had almost brought back his family to life. That would have been disasterous. Vile and horrible. He had no right to choose who lived or who died or who came back to life. That was a line he had never ever crossed. No matter how badly it hurt. No matter how much he wanted to. He wouldn't couldn't.
So glad he was able to stop himself. Distract himself. Strangle that resolve into nothing. If had crossed that line - well he didn't know what he'd do.
He shuddered as the thoughts came to him and flailed around for the soap and rag. Once again he tried to scrub himself clean.
Sick to his stomach and sick to the ohgods I'm covered in slime and I'll never get it off. He had already thrown up everything, and tried to do it again, twice. He still felt like throwing up.
He sat in the shower, warm water pouring over his head, forehead resting on his knees. He had tried scrubbing himself - but it still didn't get rid of the feeling. So now he just sat.
He could remember exactly what it felt like; being the Gary Stu again. It wasn't the power that got to him. It was how he felt. Like a god. An uncaring, frivolous, sparkly god, completely selfish without care for the multiverse - caring only for what he wanted. Everything that he tried not to be he had been.
His arm had been healed -but that had only lasted until he was knocked unconcious - but it had been healed because Gary Stus didn't get injured. At least not like that. No crippling injuries for them. It had just been healed, like it never had been injured. He remembered thinking, Why should I have to suffer so? It's stupid. I can do anything. and then the arm was healed. He wanted it healed, and it was healed.
Power without limits and with complete control. A god. He had been a god. Horrible. Disgusting. Wrong.
Just wrong. In so many different ways. He was no god. Gods controled life or death.
He heaved again, but nothing came out.
He had almost brought back his family to life. That would have been disasterous. Vile and horrible. He had no right to choose who lived or who died or who came back to life. That was a line he had never ever crossed. No matter how badly it hurt. No matter how much he wanted to. He wouldn't couldn't.
So glad he was able to stop himself. Distract himself. Strangle that resolve into nothing. If had crossed that line - well he didn't know what he'd do.
He shuddered as the thoughts came to him and flailed around for the soap and rag. Once again he tried to scrub himself clean.
