Wrote this some time ago. Thought I would share. Not beta'd, not perfect. My grammar and tenses probably suck! Hope you find something enjoyable in it anyhow LOL. Song is called "Sorrowing Man" by City & Colour. Song can be heard here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJkCXqyfQtw ****************************** Sorrowing man, look how worn you've become, The G2 pulled up in front of the trailer with a well oiled hum. The tires making dark tracks in the frost on the grass. The lights cut off, and Joe slowly climbed out, his breath pluming in the cold midnight air. He inadvertently slammed the door shut, the noise echoing in the still. You once were Lord of the barren sea, The scent of the salt air still filling his nostrils and the roar of the ocean waves in his ears, he rubbed his hands together for warmth. He walked the worn path to his trailer, pausing before the door to tap the remaining sand from the bottom of his boots. There's blood on our hands, in this perfect madness, He reached inside his leather coat, bloodstained fingers closing over his keys. The wind tossed his hair in his face, and after a moment , his numb fingers managed to turn the key in the lock. Shoulders the door open, then closing it against the chill. You're living on borrowed time, He leaned back heavily against the door, as a hot knifing pain shot through his head. His vision whiting out for the briefest of moments. Growling to himself, he pushed himself away from the door and gritting his teeth against the pain, made his way over to the kitchen. Oh how you have lost your way, He carefully laid his gun down on the counter. With a roll of broad shoulders, he shrugged out of his coat, tossing it across the narrow kitchen counter. The trailer wasn't any warmer than it had been outside. Carefully he unchambered the last round in his pistol and stuck it into the waistband of his jeans, along the small of his back, beneath his shirt. Oh how you have lost your way, Joe turned and opened one of the cabinets, grabbing a photograph he had taped on the inside of the door. He studied it a moment, eyes roving over the features of the pig faced man, before snatching a marker he had sitting in a mug and drawing an big black "x" over his face, flicking it with his index finger. There's no sympathy for we don't know the cure, He then pulled out an empty utensil drawer, all the way, off the tracks and turned it over. There was a long manila envelope taped to the bottom of it, which he removed. He tucked the photo into it and pulled out another. Sharp eyes took in every attribute of the smiling bald man in the suit, as he turned and walked across the small kitchen to a footlocker at the end of his bed. Cause what you've got, well it runs too pure, Clamping the photo under his arm, Joe flipped it open, rummaging through it before pulling out a handful of shuriken and a pistol, which he screwed a silencer onto. He tucked the poisoned darts into his hidden jeans pocket and rose, going back to the kitchen. But you've lived and breathed more than any man I know, Setting the picture down, he reached out , fingers closing over the half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter and poured some into a chipped tumbler. He tossed it back, warmth blossoming through his body and immediately poured himself another. His hand closed over a bottle of pain pills that was sitting next to the whiskey. He shook out a few, popping them into his mouth. The second slug goes down just as easy as the first. A roughened hand runs over his face, rubbing his unshaven chin, placing the glass down firmly with a dull thud. But you're not done, oh, at least, I hope, Joe glanced up at the clock on the wall , frowning, and quickly headed off towards the bathroom. He passed by a framed photo of his parents on a small table, one from their younger days, full of happy smiles at the beach. Sunny days and blue skies. There was a gold necklace with a ring and a cross on it, draped over the frame. He touches it lightly with his index finger . Oh how you have lost your way, He faintly heard his bracelet chiming and knew it would be flashing too--the Gatchaman emblem. Without a thought he pulled it off and stuffed it in his pocket, ignoring it and flipping the light switch on the wall. Oh how you have lost your way, He turned the faucet on, plugging the drain, letting water fill the sink. Steam curled up, ghostly fingers that reached for him, then melted into the air. In this life that we have made together, He ground his teeth at the sound of his bracelet still pinging. Joe shut the water off and lifted his head and stared at himself in the mirror above the sink. Stared at the blood splattered on his tanned face, dappled across his cheek, a crimson smear on his chin. Oh how you have lost your way, Joe raised a hand, one that he didn't realize was shaking, toward the mirror. He paused halfway, dropping it to the sink ledge, both hands gripping the porcelain lip, knuckles turning white. Oh how you have lost your way, Head hung low, Joe stared into the basin. At the water. Staring at blood and black grime that was ground into his skin and under his fingernails. At anything but the mirror. He briefly closed his eyes and lifted his head again. Oh how you have lost your way, His gazed at his reflection once more, blue-grey eyes hard. A cold, dead look on his features. The face of a stranger. He grimaced and his right hand suddenly shot out, punching the mirror, fist shattering it, smashing pieces of the glass into his knuckles, ripping the skin open. Rivulets of blood running down his hand, dripping onto the sink, onto the floor, in bright dime sized drops.

A very evocative vignette noir. If you'd like it beta-read for future publication on one of the archives or something, I'll gladly volunteer.

Thank you, GGO. Don't think I'm ready to go public with it, but I really appreciate the offer and will keep you in mind if I decide to do so!

I enjoyed it. His character came out as the passages progressed. I could see him being like that. Wanting time alone, I'm picturing it at the time he had his head injury. The shrapnel piece in his brain. His life unravelling... leaves me wondering what happened recently with sand in his shoes and blood stained hand. I can see why you used the song words. They're a perfect fit for the story of a man losing his way.

You wove the lyrics into the fic expertly, RB. Now I want to know more about the pictures.

I wanna give Joe a hug but I don't think that would end well ...

Ebony: Joe is very lost in this one, and really driven. Totally focused. Yet he's becoming something he's not sure he's comfortable with... Becky: I knew *someone* was going to ask about those pictures! CW: Yeah, probably not a good idea right now!

Yeah it gives the feeling of it. Looking at his life at the x on the photo.. powerful. I think what gets me with Joe is his darkness. He has it in him to truly be worse develop a sociopathic nature. But is held back in becoming it. Wonder if he wasn't saved by Nambu and left on his own in the world of Galactor. Would he have become a worse enemy than Katse and all the rest of them.

Originally posted by Ebonyswanne Wonder if he wasn't saved by Nambu and left on his own in the world of Galactor. Would he have become a worse enemy than Katse and all the rest of them.

Now there's an idea for a fic! Some kind of alternate reality . . . Don't get me started!

RB- Not hijacking your thread. Katblu42- I have an outline of a fic its 10yrs old now with an alternate Joe exactly that... likely why I thought of it. Fics like this remind me his depth and potential to be good or evil.

I think Joe does walk a very fine line at times. I feel he does push the envelope, that's his nature, but there's always something that stops him from truly going over the edge. It's all depending on how you want to interpret his character. I've read some fics where people write him as super hard (no pun intended ladies ), and personally I'm not sure it feels right. But, it might be fun to write him in a world where's he's lost absolutely EVERYTHING. Where he sees the rest of the team killed/tortured and there's nothing left. The ISO is gone, eventually Nambu is gone (could be another plot line there--is he assassinated?). Is he going to go full on psycho? Vigilante Condor taking on Galactor from the shadows? Could be a lot of fun!

I did that once in a fic. Killed them all off... got dark. But Ken left as the Condor was about to descend on Galactor. I had thoughts of it being a shift... His parents don't defect. He is raised to take on the role of leader. Its Joe instead of Egobossler in Fighter taking on the team... But... there is a twist of course!! Ghosts of the past in the last two parts have him in connection with the Great spirit. Anyway... won't go into it. Its a crossover of universes...well meshing of it. Since both teams are in it.

Oooh, I kinda like to twist of it being Joe instead of Ego. You've got some good stuff there and I want to read all of it LOL

My problem is i have more outlines than time to write it all up. Eventually I get a spark for one of them and when I write it I have to finish it.