Chapter Text
The best way to live is alone.
Sniper learned things quickly, and this was no different. His career required him to be cold. Quiet. Accurate.
Feelings get in the way. They hurt people. Hurt you.
Yet, it wasn't his career that made him this way. And he knew it. It was a nice excuse. A way of waving off the true root of the problem.
So when he was offered a job working with 8 others, his immediate response was no. No way he would be confined to a place living, eating, sharing with anyone else. He had enough money to last him a long time, there was no need for funds.
But the small woman in the purple dress was quick to add; not only would all accommodations be covered, there would be a doctor. A doctor not confined to laws.
He hated doctors, anyone of then he'd ever gone to had tried to take him, or use him, or kill him. They all saw him as some sort rabid beast, something to be contained and taken out.
But she assured him this was different. That he was willing and enthusiastic about working with something of his kind.
If he was being honest, it scared him. But that little sparkle of hope began to shine again. The hope he had ever so carefully shoved down to the deep abyss, the yearning of change. Maybe he had a chance, a chance to be normal again.
So against his better judgment, Sniper signed the contract. His hand shook as the pen met paper, slowly writing his name.
He began packing what little he had into his van, the woman helping without even asking. Scrawny, she was, but she could sure hold her weight. He could only hope that he made the right choice. He would be leaving at dawns hour. Only time will tell.