All-Star: Same As It Ever Was (Part III)

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A boot through the door of Hudson City's abandoned chemical plant heralded the entrance of a 19 year old Nate Carter, his costume torn and blood dripping from open wounds. His external wounds, however, were the least of his worries. In his right hand, he held a handgun. In his left, he held a broken locket.

"WHEEZER!!" Nate shouted, rage dripping from his every syllable. "WHEEZER!"

Wheezer sat on a strut overlooking Nate, nervously grasping his own handgun. Gulping a little, he responded with a voice just as furious as his 'brother's'. "Where are the others? Mackenzie, Calvin, Jessica?"

"They're dead, Wheezer!" Nate yelled back. "I killed them, and you're next! You're going to fucking die for what you did, you bastard!"

"I had to do it, Nate! I had to! She was in the way! She was holding us back!" Wheezer shouted, defensively.

Nate responded by firing a few shots in his general direction, forcing him to run to new cover. "YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED THE ONLY WOMAN I EVER LOVED; AND FOR FUCKING WHAT?!" He fired a few more rounds off with as much malice as he possibly could, narrowly missing a squatting Wheezer. "SO I COULD HELP YOU KNOCK OFF BANKS FOR ANOTHER FUCKING YEAR?!"

"We were going somewhere, Nate!" Wheezer yelled back, firing his own rounds and forcing Nate to cover.

"We were going nowhere, Wheeze! We were small-fries in over our heads and you're the only one who couldn't see that! You're the only one who had to cling to your stupid fucking dreams of power!" Nate screamed, bitterly. He felt tears well up in his eyes and fought through them. He hadn't cried when his father beat him, he hadn't cried when his mother died and he sure as hell wasn't going to cry now. "You killed Amanda, Wheeze. You killed her."

"I didn't want her dead!" Wheezer blurted, a bit too emotionally charged. "I-I just- I wanted her to be- I just wanted Card Shark to threaten her-"

"HE'S CARD SHARK, YOU ASSHOLE!" Nate roared, springing from his spot and running to new cover whilst unleashing a few more bullets at his 'brother'. "YOU THOUGHT HE WAS JUST GOING TO TALK TO HER?!"

"No! I-" Wheezer started before a bullet ricocheting off of a nearby vat of chemicals cut him off. "I just wanted you back, Nate! We were brothers, damn it! We did everything together!"

"Wrong." Nate replied, leveling his gun. "I grew up. You didn't."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Nate!" Wheezer practically screeched. "You think you're better than me! You -always- thought you were better than me! That's why you decided to fuck off to college and leave me in the fucking gutter!"

"I want to be somebody, Wheeze!" Nate shouted, searching for Wheezer in the darkness. "I want to be more than just another goddamn minority lost in the system! You think I wanted to leave you behind? I loved you like a brother; You saved my life! Do you know how painful it was for me to watch you burn all your chances away how you did?!"

"WHAT CHANCES?!" Wheezer bellowed, standing and firing a few more shots at Nate, again forcing him to new cover. "You think I got chances in this fucking town?! You think everyone was as lucky as little Nate Carter? Heh. You know, I was talking to one of the assholes who manage our money and he used a word I'd never heard before: 'Egoistic'. Guy must've seen me looking at him like he was a freak 'cause he told me what it means. When someone's egoistic it means they can't see shit outside of their own little bubble. They're so wrapped up in their shit and their wants that they ignore everyone else around them. 'Self-interest', he said, 'was the route of moral conduct', whatever that means. That's what's wrong with you, Nate..."

Wheezer sprung from behind his cover, firing a round at Nate from behind. Nate, caught off-guard by the attack, barely had time to spin around before the round hit him in the shoulder, sending him to the floor with a cry of pain.

"You're one egoistic motherfucker." Wheezer sneered as he aimed the next shot at the downed Nate's head. "It's a shame, too. You really meant something to me, Nate. You were my dawg."

Nate struggled to turn to face Wheezer as he prepared to execute him. "Yeah? Well I've been hearing a word a lot too..."

"Oh?" Wheezer mused. "And what would that be, bro?"

"Surprise." Nate growled, grabbing his gun and firing at the vat of chemicals behind Wheezer. "Noun."

The bullet passed through the vat of chemicals with a metallic pang, causing Wheezer to turn in surprise as some of the rusted metal exploded outwards, opening the floodgates for a rush of a purple liquid from the vat. The liquid doused a screaming Wheezer, burning away his clothes. His skin was next, horrible burns forming on it as smoke billowed from his form. Wheezer continued to cry out in agony as the liquid began to reduce him to nothing, melting away his flesh and bone as he fell on his side, writhing in pain. In a few moments, nothing remained of Wheezer but his rapidly dissolving handgun as the liquid began to pour down a drain and into the sewers.

Nate watched it happen, his eyes cold and glazed over. Wheezer had died when he killed Amanda Cho, in his eyes. This was just the burial.

"Fuck you." he grunted as he sat up. It was over. He had avenged Amanda by killing the people that took her from him. The only thing left to take his lumps. Nate threw his gun aside. He never wanted to touch a gun ever again. He was going to face punishment for what he did today, and he was going to face it unflinchingly. Life held nothing for him anymore. The only logical option was to pick the alternative.

Nate didn't move as the Hudson City Police rushed the building. He didn't resist when they tackled him to the floor and began cuffing him. He didn't protest when they read him his rights.

And he didn't cry.


Nate Carter sat at a booth, watching his lawyer on the other side of a cold glass window. It was visiting hours at the place they had shoved him in.

"Hello, Nate." The Lawyer said, shifting in her seat.

"Ms. Lane." Nate said, emotionlessly.

"I talked to the judge..." Ms. Lane said. "He said he'll be able to keep you on Death Row for maybe a year or two. It's not life, but it'll give you time to maybe settle some things. Maybe find your fath-"

"No." Nate interrupted. "Not him."

"You need someone in here, Nate. You need support." Ms. Lane sighed, exasperatedly.

"No, I don't. I'm a murderer, remember? I need a needle in my arm and a religion. How does Islam sound to you? I like Islam." Nate joked, dryly.

"Nate, this is serious. You're going to -die- in here." Ms. Lane continued. "You won't get a chance to make amends again, so just take this one. Please."

Nate thought on his response for a while before replying. "I'm not looking to make amends, Ms. Lane."

"Then what are you looking for?" Ms. Lane asked, leaning forward a bit.

"I'll tell you when I find it." Nate said, bluntly, as he stood to his feet. "Can I go now?"

Two guards walked up to him, roughly turning him towards his cell.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Nate." Ms. Lane said as he began walking. "You don't have to face this alone."

Nate stopped, turning to his lawyer with a weary smile and gesturing at the broken locket hanging from his neck.

"I'm not alone, Ms. Lane." He smiled. "I've got Amanda with me. And honestly?" He turned as the two prison guards pushed him along, not wanting to be late for lunch.

"It doesn't get any better than this." he muttered, resigned to his fate.


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