Codename "THE BOSS"
The Boss was only ever assigned solo missions. Not because they didn’t play well with others, but because they alone were enough. A one-man army. A violent force of destruction. They did the missions that nobody else could do- that nobody else could stomach. No one was quite sure what had happened to The Boss in life to prepare them so thoroughly at destroying lives, places, things. But they were better at it than anyone, and that’s all the Agency cared about when it came to fighting Legion.
When the time came for the Agency to step out into the sun, and fight the enemies at their door, they dragged The Boss from the shadows too. Meet the other agents, they said, work together to save the world, they said. The Boss never took off their full-face helmet in front of them. Their voice always digitally distorted. And they were only saved for the worst (and the best) battles. So when they were finally called in, air dropped from the sky, right into the heat of gun-fire and explosions, the other agents really couldn’t have expected the tide of the fight to reverse so suddenly. But it did. It always did, when The Boss stepped onto the stage.
They raged like a deadly current, pushing through men and beast and robot with bullets, blades and blunt instruments, leaving a wake of corpses behind them. They were awesome. They were terrifying. They were unstoppable.
Only Gat thought they were beautiful, on top of all of these perfect qualities. Their movements, their strength, their viciousness- it brought up a deep longing from inside of him that he didn’t even know existed. Or maybe he did? Was that the source of the empty space in his life that neither marriage, murder or duty could fill? It was as if their image had been seared into his brain and it wouldn’t let go until death. Either his, or their’s. He flung himself back into the thick of it, ignoring his teammates, fighting not only to win, but to get to them- to meet them in blood and violence, hear their voice, feel the heat of murder off their body. And he got there. Lord knew those who tried to get in his way were fools beyond mention. They had all heard their codename. He felt it in his bones that he was not the only one who stopped and let the name sink in. Something familiat- something like home. That’s why it made all the sense in the world when he called out their name.
They had whipped around so fast the poor fella’s head in their arms nearly did a 180. Full body tactical armour, fully shaded visor. Completely undescernible spare the agency’s logo emblazoned on their chest piece, Johnny Gat felt that he knew them. Knew, that he should know them. They stared at him as if they did. Stautuesque and deadly quiet, Johnny felt like if he made a move, they would run. He didn’t understand why he felt like that, but he had gotten into the habit of trusting his gut. When The Boss finally moved, Johnny automatically tensed for an attack- but all they did was tilt their head to the sky, hands creaking into fists. And they stared, silently, as if in conversation with the clouds. Johnny felt like he had done the same before. The battle around them raged, but kept a distance, as if their enemies knew this was no normal meeting- to intervene was to invite death. In resignation, a gargly sigh echoed from their helmet, and the attention was back on him.
“Who’re you?” They asked.
Frustration at their unidentifiable voice spurred on his frustration at the question. A voice screamed from inside of him, a stranger all his life- YOU KNOW ME. When he realised he had taken too long to answer, The Boss had taken a half-step towards him, over the body of a Legion goon, their head tilted in what could be concern.
“Johnny. Johnny Gat.” He said hoarsely, his heart taking up too much room in his throat.
They stood for a moment, letting the answer sink in, then nodded sharply, pulling up the Uzis they had in their hands.
“Try to keep up.”
And then they were off, charging into the fray once more and leaving him dumbstruck. But the words branded him. His body was moving before his mind did. Like a gear that had slipped out of place for many years, it had been kicked back into position, ready to go. Whoever this guy was, whatever they may be, Johnny was going to find out- because nothing had ever felt as good as this feeling. The feeling of rightness. The feeling of finding something that he never knew was lost. A sense of destiny calling his name from the other side of the gun.
The Boss felt like they were going to be struck down by a cruel God, and this dream was going to end.
( @celestialgoth you gave me the idea and now I can’t stop thinking of it, tis your fault.)