This Side of Goodbye (just before Blackest Night)
Travis is on top of the world - literally, in his own fashion.
He's bedecked in a flickering orange and green nimbus, the tommyknocker green and orange cascading back and forth across each other, the conflict suitable given the usually desperate, conflicted nature of his home - Alphabet City. The home he hovers over.
He's as blind as ever, so he can't look down - but with the power of two rings, he can listen.
And today, Alphabet City is quiet. Utterly quiet.
The sirens are gone, no need for them. There's no gunfire. No shouts and screams. He's made it his own.
The key was the orange. The green was always right - he's a green lantern, he can do anything. It just went about it all wrong. It wasn't what he had to do, no. The orange reminded him that the key wasn't what he could do, it was control. Don't fix the pipes, make the landlord do it.
Don't fight the gangs one by one, teach them to fear, until they stay indoors. He'd never understood fear before - but the orange taught him to appreciate what it could do for him.
With the right pressure, the police go where they wouldn't. There are places for the sick to go. Those who had - give. There's enough food, clean running water. Things get fixed. He didn't have to do everything - he just had to make everything work. He's just not sure why he didn't get it before.
Oh, yes he is. Then, he was a hero. He didn't 'see' the light of the orange. He relied upon himself, allies, friends... and a lover. But he doesn't need those things. They held him back - kept him from what he really wanted.
This - after all this time, now that there's no Tara, no Outsiders, no Guardians - Alphabet City is quiet at last.
He's bedecked in a flickering orange and green nimbus, the tommyknocker green and orange cascading back and forth across each other, the conflict suitable given the usually desperate, conflicted nature of his home - Alphabet City. The home he hovers over.
He's as blind as ever, so he can't look down - but with the power of two rings, he can listen.
And today, Alphabet City is quiet. Utterly quiet.
The sirens are gone, no need for them. There's no gunfire. No shouts and screams. He's made it his own.
The key was the orange. The green was always right - he's a green lantern, he can do anything. It just went about it all wrong. It wasn't what he had to do, no. The orange reminded him that the key wasn't what he could do, it was control. Don't fix the pipes, make the landlord do it.
Don't fight the gangs one by one, teach them to fear, until they stay indoors. He'd never understood fear before - but the orange taught him to appreciate what it could do for him.
With the right pressure, the police go where they wouldn't. There are places for the sick to go. Those who had - give. There's enough food, clean running water. Things get fixed. He didn't have to do everything - he just had to make everything work. He's just not sure why he didn't get it before.
Oh, yes he is. Then, he was a hero. He didn't 'see' the light of the orange. He relied upon himself, allies, friends... and a lover. But he doesn't need those things. They held him back - kept him from what he really wanted.
This - after all this time, now that there's no Tara, no Outsiders, no Guardians - Alphabet City is quiet at last.