Green Lantern Corps. General. 006. Hours.
Title: Cursed
Fandom: Green Lantern Corps
Characters: Kyle Rayner, Hal Jordan
Prompt: 006 - HOURS
Word Count: 1334
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kyle suffers post-traumatic stress. Hal may or may not be helping with that.
Author's Notes: Set directly after Ion #12. Slash (m/m relationship).
My fault. My fault. My fault.
The picture Marissa painted is sitting inside the door, its single rose and its words in black facing the wall. I couldn’t look at it, so I turned it around. I can’t look at anything I’ve painted, snapshots of loss and empty space. I was trying to remember life, to honor a memory, and instead all I’ve done is retrace grief and give it color and depth.
I’m trying to think of everything I’ve done, of the lives I must have saved somewhere along the line, and all that comes to mind is the number of people who’ve been hurt because of me. It’s not just the ones who are close to me - Donna, Alex, Jade, my mother - it’s the ones that just happened to be around when someone wanted a piece of me, or the ones I couldn’t help. There were forty-two people who died on the Aurora Borealis up north, all those years ago when Connor and Wally and I tried to take a vacation and ran into Dr. Polaris instead. Forty-two people dead because I couldn’t focus.
There are the people who died when I tried to revive the Corps all on my own and gave the ring to a complete maniac. I don’t know how many. They weren’t human, but it doesn’t matter, does it? They died because of me, because of something I did. If I hadn’t given the ring to Magaan, how many would still be alive? Not to mention the little mercenary who died protecting my temporary troops. I can’t remember his name. I wish I could. Dead because I couldn’t be bothered to look past the surface.
Grayven’s come looking for me, more than once. How many people had to die before I even noticed he was there? How many people died because I didn’t have what it took to protect them? I don’t know. What did they do wrong? Nothing, except live in a city that I claimed to protect.
And just now, just so recently, Nero went on a rampage, killing, destroying, wearing my face to do it. I don’t know who sent him, but they did it in my name. More faceless victims, people who weren’t even near me, people who should have lived safe and happy lives. How can I not feel responsible for something like that? If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t have died!
I’m so cold.
I visited Alex, and my mother, and there’s a memorial for Jade, and one for Donna even though she came back. I don’t know how long I stayed at each one. The sun was shining when I started out and it’s dark now, so I guess hours. I don’t know. How long have I been here?
It’s funny, Donna thought that she was some kind of curse, and that’s why she and I broke up. She didn’t want anyone getting near her. I thought it was silly at the time. I was so sure she was wrong. I’m still sure she was. She wasn’t the curse. I am. She was my girlfriend, and she died. I know she came back, but that’s not always how it works, is it? My girlfriends, my lovers, my maybe-future-stepchild. I’ve got a lousy track record here.
I mean, you know why Alex died, and it can’t be anything but my fault. I wasn’t there when she needed me, and the only reason she was in danger at all was because she was seen with me. She was seen with me because I was too much of a dumb kid to learn how to be a superhero on my own. What an idiot I was. But it wasn’t me who paid the price for my inexperience, for my stupidity, oh no. It was Alex.
Jade… Jenny. Jenny sacrificed her life to save mine. It isn’t fair. How could she do that to me? No, I know. I would have done the same for her. I would do the same for… for all of my friends, for anyone I couldn’t save any other way. But I didn’t. She did. I wish she had let me die instead.
The sudden pain and subsequent bruisingly hard fall to the ground came out of apparently nowhere. Kyle Rayner looked up to see Hal Jordan standing over him, fist clenched and fury radiating from every pore. “Don’t ever say that again,” Hal said.
“Why?” Kyle asked bitterly, not bothering to get up. “It’s true.”
“You saved me,” Hal said, crouching down. “You saved the Corps. I’ve heard John tell stories about you. Hell, I’ve seen you fight. How many do you think would be dead if you hadn’t been given the ring?”
“I…” Kyle looked away. “Hal, how do you face the ones you couldn’t save?”
“Kyle, look at me.” Hal reached out, gently, and cupped Kyle’s cheek, willing the other man to meet his gaze. Sorrow and compassion shone, and Kyle’s face crumpled. “It’s all right.” Hal knelt, drawing Kyle closer, holding him as Kyle sobbed desperately. “Ssssh. It’s all right.”
“H-how can it be all right?” Kyle choked out, clutching so tightly that Hal thought he heard his ribs creaking. He shifted, rubbing Kyle’s back.
“Honor them by living and learn from your mistakes. That’s all you can do.” Hal stroked Kyle’s hair, and slowly the other man started to calm. When Kyle had quieted to the point of just occasional hiccups, Hal carefully eased him back, and brushed the tears away. “Here,” he said, and ringed a box of tissues to within easy reach. Kyle sat up straighter, and took the box.
“Thanks,” he said thickly. “Sorry,” he added after a moment, and looked around for someplace to put the used tissues. Hal ringed those away, too.
“Feel better?”
Kyle dredged up a small smile. “I guess.”
Afterwards, he wasn’t sure why he did it. Kyle just looked so lost, and the only other person Hal had ever held while she cried as if she would never stop had been Carol and he’d only been able to think of one way to make her smile again when she finally had. It didn’t have quite the same effect on Kyle.
Carol had wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body into his. Kyle jumped backwards, hand covering his mouth, shock written across his features. At least he didn’t look forlorn. His mouth worked for a moment before a strangled “Hal!” made its way out. Hal waited, but Kyle didn’t say anything else, although it didn’t look to be for lack of trying.
“Um,” Hal said intelligently, trying to follow his own line of reasoning. It appeared to have gaps the size of the Atlantic Ocean. Mental note, Hal. A kiss works as a fantastic distraction for acquaintances of both genders, although for entirely different reasons.
“You can’t be gay,” Kyle finally said, voice dazed. “You’re in the Air Force.”
“You can’t be straight,” Hal snapped back. “You’re an artist.” It wasn’t that he hadn’t been attracted to men before, or that he hadn’t slept with men - he’d been and done both - but the Air Force’s don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy had ensured that all of his previous encounters had been nameless one-night-stands.
“Hey!” Kyle looked indignant, which Hal supposed was fair. It wasn’t nice to throw stereotypes, even if Kyle had started it.
“I didn’t mean that.” Hal rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry,” he added. “For the kiss.”
“About that.” Kyle was blushing, ever so slightly, skin pale enough after so much time indoors and in space to show even the faintest red stain. “You probably don’t have to be. Sorry, I mean.”
Hal blinked. Suddenly the previous conversation seemed like the safer bet after all. “As long as you’re feeling better,” he said. Maybe they could take it slow.
Kyle ducked his head. “I… It helps that you listened. And stuff. Thanks, Hal.”
Hal could definitely see the possibilities.
FINIS
Nalanzu's Little Damn Table.
Fandom: Green Lantern Corps
Characters: Kyle Rayner, Hal Jordan
Prompt: 006 - HOURS
Word Count: 1334
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kyle suffers post-traumatic stress. Hal may or may not be helping with that.
Author's Notes: Set directly after Ion #12. Slash (m/m relationship).
My fault. My fault. My fault.
The picture Marissa painted is sitting inside the door, its single rose and its words in black facing the wall. I couldn’t look at it, so I turned it around. I can’t look at anything I’ve painted, snapshots of loss and empty space. I was trying to remember life, to honor a memory, and instead all I’ve done is retrace grief and give it color and depth.
I’m trying to think of everything I’ve done, of the lives I must have saved somewhere along the line, and all that comes to mind is the number of people who’ve been hurt because of me. It’s not just the ones who are close to me - Donna, Alex, Jade, my mother - it’s the ones that just happened to be around when someone wanted a piece of me, or the ones I couldn’t help. There were forty-two people who died on the Aurora Borealis up north, all those years ago when Connor and Wally and I tried to take a vacation and ran into Dr. Polaris instead. Forty-two people dead because I couldn’t focus.
There are the people who died when I tried to revive the Corps all on my own and gave the ring to a complete maniac. I don’t know how many. They weren’t human, but it doesn’t matter, does it? They died because of me, because of something I did. If I hadn’t given the ring to Magaan, how many would still be alive? Not to mention the little mercenary who died protecting my temporary troops. I can’t remember his name. I wish I could. Dead because I couldn’t be bothered to look past the surface.
Grayven’s come looking for me, more than once. How many people had to die before I even noticed he was there? How many people died because I didn’t have what it took to protect them? I don’t know. What did they do wrong? Nothing, except live in a city that I claimed to protect.
And just now, just so recently, Nero went on a rampage, killing, destroying, wearing my face to do it. I don’t know who sent him, but they did it in my name. More faceless victims, people who weren’t even near me, people who should have lived safe and happy lives. How can I not feel responsible for something like that? If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t have died!
I’m so cold.
I visited Alex, and my mother, and there’s a memorial for Jade, and one for Donna even though she came back. I don’t know how long I stayed at each one. The sun was shining when I started out and it’s dark now, so I guess hours. I don’t know. How long have I been here?
It’s funny, Donna thought that she was some kind of curse, and that’s why she and I broke up. She didn’t want anyone getting near her. I thought it was silly at the time. I was so sure she was wrong. I’m still sure she was. She wasn’t the curse. I am. She was my girlfriend, and she died. I know she came back, but that’s not always how it works, is it? My girlfriends, my lovers, my maybe-future-stepchild. I’ve got a lousy track record here.
I mean, you know why Alex died, and it can’t be anything but my fault. I wasn’t there when she needed me, and the only reason she was in danger at all was because she was seen with me. She was seen with me because I was too much of a dumb kid to learn how to be a superhero on my own. What an idiot I was. But it wasn’t me who paid the price for my inexperience, for my stupidity, oh no. It was Alex.
Jade… Jenny. Jenny sacrificed her life to save mine. It isn’t fair. How could she do that to me? No, I know. I would have done the same for her. I would do the same for… for all of my friends, for anyone I couldn’t save any other way. But I didn’t. She did. I wish she had let me die instead.
The sudden pain and subsequent bruisingly hard fall to the ground came out of apparently nowhere. Kyle Rayner looked up to see Hal Jordan standing over him, fist clenched and fury radiating from every pore. “Don’t ever say that again,” Hal said.
“Why?” Kyle asked bitterly, not bothering to get up. “It’s true.”
“You saved me,” Hal said, crouching down. “You saved the Corps. I’ve heard John tell stories about you. Hell, I’ve seen you fight. How many do you think would be dead if you hadn’t been given the ring?”
“I…” Kyle looked away. “Hal, how do you face the ones you couldn’t save?”
“Kyle, look at me.” Hal reached out, gently, and cupped Kyle’s cheek, willing the other man to meet his gaze. Sorrow and compassion shone, and Kyle’s face crumpled. “It’s all right.” Hal knelt, drawing Kyle closer, holding him as Kyle sobbed desperately. “Ssssh. It’s all right.”
“H-how can it be all right?” Kyle choked out, clutching so tightly that Hal thought he heard his ribs creaking. He shifted, rubbing Kyle’s back.
“Honor them by living and learn from your mistakes. That’s all you can do.” Hal stroked Kyle’s hair, and slowly the other man started to calm. When Kyle had quieted to the point of just occasional hiccups, Hal carefully eased him back, and brushed the tears away. “Here,” he said, and ringed a box of tissues to within easy reach. Kyle sat up straighter, and took the box.
“Thanks,” he said thickly. “Sorry,” he added after a moment, and looked around for someplace to put the used tissues. Hal ringed those away, too.
“Feel better?”
Kyle dredged up a small smile. “I guess.”
Afterwards, he wasn’t sure why he did it. Kyle just looked so lost, and the only other person Hal had ever held while she cried as if she would never stop had been Carol and he’d only been able to think of one way to make her smile again when she finally had. It didn’t have quite the same effect on Kyle.
Carol had wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body into his. Kyle jumped backwards, hand covering his mouth, shock written across his features. At least he didn’t look forlorn. His mouth worked for a moment before a strangled “Hal!” made its way out. Hal waited, but Kyle didn’t say anything else, although it didn’t look to be for lack of trying.
“Um,” Hal said intelligently, trying to follow his own line of reasoning. It appeared to have gaps the size of the Atlantic Ocean. Mental note, Hal. A kiss works as a fantastic distraction for acquaintances of both genders, although for entirely different reasons.
“You can’t be gay,” Kyle finally said, voice dazed. “You’re in the Air Force.”
“You can’t be straight,” Hal snapped back. “You’re an artist.” It wasn’t that he hadn’t been attracted to men before, or that he hadn’t slept with men - he’d been and done both - but the Air Force’s don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy had ensured that all of his previous encounters had been nameless one-night-stands.
“Hey!” Kyle looked indignant, which Hal supposed was fair. It wasn’t nice to throw stereotypes, even if Kyle had started it.
“I didn’t mean that.” Hal rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry,” he added. “For the kiss.”
“About that.” Kyle was blushing, ever so slightly, skin pale enough after so much time indoors and in space to show even the faintest red stain. “You probably don’t have to be. Sorry, I mean.”
Hal blinked. Suddenly the previous conversation seemed like the safer bet after all. “As long as you’re feeling better,” he said. Maybe they could take it slow.
Kyle ducked his head. “I… It helps that you listened. And stuff. Thanks, Hal.”
Hal could definitely see the possibilities.
FINIS
Nalanzu's Little Damn Table.