As he crept along the hall, Leo remembered his Captain demonstrating a takedown for him once.

He was silent as he entered that same Captain’s room, the knife barely swinging by his side, just as he learned.

_“The first step is making sure they don’t even know you’re there,”_ his Captain had said once, standing a bit too close to him.

Then Leo struck— he crushed his captain’s knees under _his_, used his arms to hold down _his_ arms, put his knife to _his_ throat, incapacitating him completely.

“Captain,” he rasped, ignoring how familiar the position felt, “I told you I was going to get you back for what you did to me.”

“Oh, Leo,” his Captain laughed darkly, “none of us can go back to who we were.”

_“Solidify your victory,”_ his Captain ordered a long time ago, one of many mistakes between the both of them, _“it doesn’t matter if he was your friend— slit his throat.”_

“…you’re right,” he conceded, leaning down to kiss him, “I’ve lost any good inside of me.”

When his Captain met his lips, he plunged the knife into his throat, and did not move.

And as he watched the life seep out of his Captain’s eyes, and felt the blood seep out of his Captain’s throat, Leo knew it couldn’t have ended any other way.

(A/N: i have no idea what genre to put this in nor where i was going with this LMAO)