Summary: M-21′s used to getting scarred from one fight or another — a knife he didn't dodge, a punch so hard that broke his ribs and his bones jutted through his skin.

Scars

By Dark Ice Dragon

M-21′s used to getting scarred from one fight or another — a knife he didn't dodge, a punch so hard that broke his ribs and his bones jutted through his skin.

He lives.

He heals.

He collects scars from them.

But the weird thing is, the scars don't stay. They wash off in the rain or a shower, his skin unblemished once the water's dry, like the scars had only been drawn on. Like it had never happened.

He's not sure what the fuck the Union had done to him or why (unless it was just because they could), but there's one thing that bothers him.

The scar across his lip stays, no matter how wet he gets.

The only thing that makes it different from the rest of his scars was that it wasn't a life threatening one. Not that he can remember how he got it, the thing already there when he gained consciousness in the tank.

But… It's constant, something that draws his attention whenever he sees his reflection. It's something real when he sometimes wonders if he'd actually been hurt at all.

Written for promptsfromtheaether's 'Scars that can wash off.'