the light must always shine

Mar 01, 2009 10:25

dated February 27

He's gone. Back to Lian. Home, where he belongs. I keep telling myself that, that he's not dead, just time-shifted back to where he's happiest.

Without me. But there's a me there, and maybe he'll work it out too. Find a way to have what we had here, again. I've loved him forever, so if he remembers this, if he wants it still, he'd only have to find a way to tell me.

I should be happy for him, and I am. But I'm angry, too. We were just getting back to where we should be, just being the team we always should have been, and he leaves me here to lead them all alone again. I don't know why I'm surprised. That's what Arrows are for. Piercing Bats' hearts.

Dick moves through the Treehouse like a shadow, like a ghost of a shadow, silent, his presence no more substantial than the echo of Roy's. Monet sees him on his way to the third floor, to his study, where the chest is, the one the island gave him. The one that had the digital picture frame that he loaded with the photos of Lian for Roy.

His fingers tighten on the railing, but his face stays calm. "He's gone," he says, without needing to say who. She and Karo know he went looking when Roy didn't come back. Two days to grieve over Dinah not knowing him was within normal tolerances for Roy. By the third, he should've had Dick bent over a flat surface to get his aggressions out, then dropped to his knees to be held while he wept. Dick knew before he stepped out of the Treehouse Roy was gone, but he had to look, in case he was hurt instead. "I need to be alone but I'll be at the Memorial if anyone needs me."

Aren't you the good boy. Always so responsible. Can't even tell people to fuck off and let you alone to grieve for me. Nice, Robbie. Roy's voice mocks from inside his head and he has to hold his breath while he turns away and mounts the stairs, or he'll shatter and sob. Monet's saying something, but it's not I need you or any M-variant of it, so he keeps moving. As long as he's moving, he's okay.

"Tell Cassie and Karo," he calls from the third-floor landing, voice as calm as he can keep it. Cassie will tell Tim and the others. Karo just needs to know.

In the chest there's a candle holder, one of the old ones from the days before electric lights, and a supply of small candles. He didn't know, when he got it, whether it would be for him, Tim, Alfred, Babs, but he knew it was for one of them. Now he knows.

He takes the holder and three candles. In Gotham, there'd just be one for Crime Alley. But it's early still, and three is the right number. The Waynes, for Bruce. Stephanie, for Tim. Roy, for him.

When he kneels beside the Memorial to light the first, he lets out the breath he's been holding for hours. "To guide your way home," he says around a sob. The light must always shine.

But I can still taste you, you asshole.

[ooc: set to Saturday before/during Donna's arrival. Open to anyone who might have reason to be at the memorial or be looking for Dick. Obviously not the best time to meet him, but not the worst, either. Casual acquaintances or non-intimate friends should expect short threads and evasions. Expect serious ST.]

kate, kon, phedre, lois, karolina, zack, donna

Previous post Next post
Up