Title: Missed
Summary: The word "miss" has many definitions, many variations, many uses. But only a few applied to the circumstance of what she went through. A Spitfire one-shot.
[Note, there's no sad ending to this].
Miss /mis/
[verb] fail to see [someone].
[verb] notice the loss or absence of.
[noun] a failure to notice, hear, or understand.
In the beginning, she missed him, that she did.
She missed him, because she couldn't reach the arctic in time. She missed him, because he had to put his life on the line and run all the way across the world. She missed him, because his life was sacrificed for the sake of the world. She missed him, and she never even got to say good-bye for one last time. After all, she still missed him, she did.
-x-
Over the months that followed, it turned into a different kind of missing.
She missed the nights that they would crack jokes at each other, trying to one-up each other when it came to their banters to see who could be the snarkier one of the duo.
She missed the nights that would be spent as all-nighters. With the two of them studying last minute for midterms and finals, because the two of them had procrastinated and spent the entire day doing things any other normal couple would do. Fool around, goof around, and mess around. Things any average couples would do.
She missed the nights that the two of them would wander around the unfamiliar cities of California, where the two of them would be holding hand-in-hand. Where he'd rarely complain about them being too slow, because it was evidently clear that he was having the time of his life. And so did she.
She missed the nights that they would pass out on the couch after binge watching endless hours of television, only for the both of them to wake up early the next morning when their dog would make soft howling noises, begging for either one of them to take him out so he could do his morning business.
She missed mornings spent wasted on cooking everything, with the two of them laughing over burnt and soggy toasts, runny eggs, and terribly cooked bacons.
She missed all the impromptu study dates. All the real dates. All the bad dates. All the fun dates. All kinds of dates.
She missed all the fights that they had. Whether big or small, she missed how much they would butt heads from time to time. And how much they'd come to regret letting something small come between the two of them. And how the two of them would make it up to each other, vowing to becoming a better person for each other and owning up to their own mistakes.
She missed all of the intimate moments that were shared between the two, and all of the not-so-intimate moments as well.
She missed all of the ways he'd show her he cared about her. All of the subtle signs, from the way he placed his hand on her shoulder whenever she had an emotionally hard day. Or the way he would squeeze her arm whenever she'd find herself upset or moodier than usual. Things like that. Things that said that he was there for her, that he was her personal cheerleader, that he was going to be there for her no matter what.
She missed that cocky smile of his, that smug look on his face whenever he knew he was right about something that she always refused to admit.
She missed him, she did.
After all, five years being with somebody was a long time. And the pain and memories doesn't slowly fade away. And she couldn't help miss him.
-x-
Acceptance and moving on, two key factors that were important for moving on. She no longer felt the heavy grief that she'd been carrying for a long time after he was gone. The smiles that would appear on her face were no longer forced, no longer faked, no longer lacking of sincerity.
The team no longer approached her with hesitancy written on their faces or laced in their tones. Gone were the gentle voices, the sympathetic and uncertain looks, and the slightly patronizing treatment. They knew she wasn't hurting over him anymore, just as they all had came to terms over his lost.
There was something about that night; there was something in the air. Something positive, something hopeful, something serene. Something that made her feel at peace with the world, ready to close one chapter in her life and move onto the next.
She had it all finally figured out.
Acceptance and moving on, after all, did not have room for those who refused to stick in the past.
Maybe she should have taken all of signs; all of the clues that were begging for her to take a gander at and solve. But for that to have happened, she should have been given a heads up in the first place.
Maybe then, she would have been prepared for the sight she saw.
Maybe then, she would have been prepared for who she saw.
Maybe then, she would have been prepared to deal with all of the emotions that surged through her, flooded through her veins. The emotions that were clawing their way out of her, begging to be expressed in any way possible.
Maybe then, she would have done something more instead of stare at the haggard looking man who looked worse for wear. Who looked like he'd been to hell and back. Who looked like he wanted to do nothing more than run to her, pull her into a hug, and to never ever let go.
Instead, she stared at him.
Too stunned to speak; too stunned to do anything except realize how much she was trembling as she continued to stare.
And there it was.
Barely there, but just enough for her to recognize that smug look on his face as his lips stretched to a wearied grin. A grin that was small, but powerful enough to bring back all of the memories of the two of them.
"Miss me?"
She still missed him, she did.
A/N: I can't believe I'm writing fanfictions. I always thought I had finally moved on, or that I wouldn't find myself writing Young Justice fanfics years after it finally ended.
I only wrote this because:
1, I felt bad for all of the people who are reading Pen Pals and have been asking me to update it.
2, I felt really bad because I did plan on writing and updating Pen Pals, only to realize I pigeon-holed myself due to how I structured the plot. I can either go the predictable route, or stick with my writer's block until I figure out an ending that would work with what I'm given (aka the show's actual canon).
3, I just like writing angsty Spitfire fanfics. Sue me.
Anyway, thank you for reading! Sorry if there's any spelling/grammatical errors. I didn't beta this. I wrote this on a whim.
xx, pastellace.