A/N: Hello! This one goes out to Kaila and Ivonne, who has been craving something depressing lately. Oh, and Merry Christmas!! Also, Mare, who absolutely loves Rascal Flatts.

Disclaimer: I don't own TT or "What Hurts the Most" by Rascal Flatts

TTTT

I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house,
That don't bother me,

I walked slowly. I don't know now what drove me to that place back then, but something dragged me. My steps. Painful and sluggish, but still I walked. I tried not to take notice of the emptiness around me, the dense air of loneliness that hung about the earth. Early December winds bit against my uncovered cheeks, but still I walked. I might not have known why I went there every year, (more like, every week) but one thing I was certain of: You called me. And you won't believe this. I still talk to you. I know, crazy, right? Well, Victor (that's what we call him now) says it's normal for people who have 'suffered' a 'loss'. I always laugh when he says that. It sounds rather foolish when the truth is I'm with you everyday. You probably can't even hear me, can you? You probably can't even see me go home alone every night after working for what you wanted. I sighed that night and walked on. The gloomy sight of rows and rows of stones somehow always makes me shiver. You never shivered, did you? No. You came in and strutted around like you owned the place. I know; I came with you, remember? I came with you every year, not having a clue that I would soon be coming without you.

I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out
I'm not afraid to cry every once in a while,

But never mind that, right? What matters now is that no one comes with me, that I have to make the trips in disguise and on foot to avoid attention. Gar offered to drive me the first couple of times, but he says it hurts him to see me like this. I, for one, have no idea what he's talking about; do you? I asked Rachel the other day, a day she had offered to drive me here. She was quiet for a second, then I saw tears in her eyes. Can you imagine? Rachel crying? She scared me; the only time I'd seen her cry was that one night, six Decembers ago. Then she answered that I hurt even Victor when I got into what they called my 'moods'. I still don't get that. I once overheard their conversation at Rachel's (we don't live in the tower anymore, I told you, right?), and Victor said something about mental help. Can you believe it? They think I'm going nuts. For a while back there, so did I. But then I thought: Maybe they're just confused. Maybe they don't want to accept that I found a way to hold on to you and they can't see it. I honestly don't know. You'd think they would've found it too, judging by the way they moped around before finally packing their stuff.

Even though going on with you gone still upsets me
There are days every now and again I pretend I'm okay
But that's not what gets me,

But can't they understand I'm happy this way? You'd understand, wouldn't you? You'd know that the mist around your name that night was the only thing that kept me from going insane. And guess what? Victor swears he saw me cutting last week. I know, huh? He says he walked in on me, knife and all. Oh, my God, Richard, you should've been there. I laughed so hard I got the hiccups. You remember my hiccups, right? The really loud, squeaky ones that never go away? Then Victor frowned and asked to see my arms. I rolled my eyes and lifted my sleeve (we don't wear uniforms anymore, remember?); and what do you know? We actually saw cuts there. I was so fucking scared! Victor glared at me the way he glared at Rachel when she stopped eating (can you remember?) and took my face in his hands. He was crying, Richard, seriously crying. He hugged me for eternity and a week, before making me swear I wouldn't do it again. I swore, even though you and I both know I wouldn't do something like that in the first place. I sighed again and got closer to my destination, somehow feeling the weight in my coat pocket heavier that when I arrived. It weighed a ton.

What hurts the most, was being so close,
An having so much to say
And watching you walk away…

But still I walked. After that night, I looked at myself every day, glaring at the mirror when it showed me someone else. Remember that hair clip you gave me, Richard? I wear it every day now. Karen (You remember her, don't you?) laughs sometimes, and she says I'll wear that thing even if it clashes with what I'm wearing. I guess I would, right? But it's so pretty, I keep telling her. She says 'okay', but I don't think she means it. I talk about you with her (do you mind? I can stop if you do), and she looks at me with this sad look in her eyes. I don't get it, though; I thought you two got along. Richard, was it something you said? (I'm kidding!) But she's the one worrying me. She barely speaks about you, and whenever we go near your room (she insists on bringing flowers ever year, can you imagine?) she gets all teary-eyed. Maybe that's it, Richard. Maybe they think something's wrong with me, but I think something's wrong with them. I mean, think about it. First, Gar's being all dramatic, Vic's starting to hallucinate, Rach's getting weepy, and Karen doesn't smile anymore. Then they look at me, and I'm happy! Is it so wrong for me to be as bubbly as I always was before…just, before?

And never knowing, what could've been
And not seeing that loving you is what I was trying to do…

But you're okay with it, right? I mean, do you want me to cry every time I see your pictures on my walls? … I didn't think so. Nope, that's what I keep telling them! You don't want to see us all mopey and teary, right? But they get all worked up whenever I talk to you. Rachel takes my hand and strokes my back, sometimes taking me to my room and tucking me in like my mother used to. You remember my mother, don't you? Of course you do. She was here that day, remember? She held me for a while before taking the frame out of my hands and giving it to you. Do you still have that thing? I'm sorry if it's crappy, but it was the best one I could find at the time. I gave you the frame you loved, though. I hope that made up for it. I bet you loved it, though. I remember telling my mother you thanked her, and having her look at me all weird. I shrugged and walked away, thinking of the next time I'd be able to visit you. She offered to have me return to Tamaran, but do you have any idea how far away that is? (Guessing games again, love) You came once, remember? I laughed and said no, for how was I supposed to come see you from God knows how many light years away? No, I'd rather bunk with Rachel. I told you, remember, love? We share this nice apartment in Gotham now, straight across from Gar's and a couple of minutes away from Vic and Karen's.

It's so hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go,
But I'm doing it…

Funny how easily I can call you that now, isn't it? Before it was so freaking hard. I just called you Richard, or honey. You never heard me say it until now, did you? I'm sorry about that. It's just, I was really shy back then, I always thought I should hold back. But you wouldn't want me to hold back now, would you, love? No, you wouldn't want that. Not now that we have so much to live for. Ha, look love, I made a joke. You would've laughed at that one. But it hurts now, doesn't it? I have to wonder (Guess again, love) would it have hurt before? Did you love me before? You said so like, a million times, but still I wonder. Gar says he loves Rachel (You were right, Vic owes you $20), but he won't say anything to her. Vic says he loves Karen (ha, Gar owes you $20), but he won't do anything either. I keep telling them you think they're being pigheaded, and that gets them all quiet. Victor adopts that look I've seen so many times in the past six years, and Gar hugs me for like, five hours. Then they'll call Rachel and it's off to bed with me. Anyway, did you? (Tell me now, love; tell me now that we're alone) The others say you did, but I never listen do I? You should know. It's nice to think you still love me. It kinda keeps me going. If you weren't here, I'm sure I'd be dead by my own hand by now. Good thing that's not going to happen, huh?

It's hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone,
Still harder,
Gettin' up, gettin' dressed, livin' with this regret

I rolled my eyes and put my hand in the coat pocket, languidly fingering the blade there. A frown reached my forehead, but it was quickly replaced by a soft smile at the view that met my eyes. The grass seemed to grow thicker, trees were taller, and the wind stopped gushing. City rustles fell silent at the site, and all was engulfed by peace. Remember, love? I chose this spot myself. I knew you liked to be alone, just not completely exiled. You need your space, but I was always welcomed in your silence, was I not, love? You never pushed me away as soon as I talked, and you always fell for the soft smile and the twinkling eyes, didn't you, love? I'm sorry, Richard. I really am. I don't know what happened, one minute I'm all smiles and looking at my ring, the next both the smile and the ring were gone… I'm sorry, love… I failed you… after all the promises, I couldn't hold my end of the deal…
And you know what the worst part of it is? I'm doing the one thing you made me promise I wouldn't do. Remember the trees, remember the sea, remember me, love? Remember all the things we said that night, all the kisses we shared, the way your hands caressed my face… But now, I'm not at the park with you, I'm here, at your special place. I'm here and I can't believe it, that soon enough we'll be closer that we'd ever been…

But I know if I could do it over,
I would trade, give away all the words that I saved in my heart
That I left unspoken…

You'd want me close to you, right? You'd want me to love you, right? (say the words, love). Maybe you don't think this is the best way to do it, but believe me when I say it's the only way. I can't think anymore. I can't stand to know this is the only way we'll ever be able to be together again by. I want something more, Richard. I want the life you promised to give me, remember? I don't want to do this anymore. I want you to be there with me when I wake up, I want you to tell me I'm being stupid and to just buy the goddamn dress, even if it does make me look fat. I want you to be in the kitchen on Christmas morning making hot chocolate and helping Vic with the Christmas dinner. I don't want to wait anymore. I'm done waiting, you hear me, Richard John Grayson? I am through with this. You said wait a couple of years, honey; give it time. I've waited six fucking years, six long, stupid years without a kiss from you, without so much as a rushed 'I love you' before you left for work. I miss you, Richard, and no amount of talking will bring you back, will it? No, love, you were the one who said long-distance relationships were full of shit (we became one, didn't we?). You were the one who always told Bruce to fuck off whenever he got on our case. He was there too, you know. All I had to do was give good old Alfred a call and they were both there in a heartbeat. Ha. That was the only time Bruce ever hugged me. He always shook my hand, remember? (Only kisses from you, love).
But now, the world is silent. Now, I call the shots; and I say screw patience. You want me there with you, I'll be there. Now, my hand is in the pocket. (There's no turning back now, is there?) Now, the blade shines as if in respect to your name, forever carved in stone. I told Rachel I wanted mine right next to yours.

What hurts the most, was being so close,
And having so much to say,
And watching you walk away…

And the tears came. Why the fuck do I have to make every one of our reunions, the most important one, no less, so depressing? I always end up crying. But you never liked the tears, did you, love? You won't see them again, I promise (promise you'll love me till summer's end). My arms are bare. Right here, and now, my love for you is out in the open. None shall reach what I deem to be sacred. Those who scorn our passion shall burn from the fire it brings. And now, the blade of your absence is what will bring us together once and forever more. The knife is sharp, the pain acute and agile. Your words can't help me now, love. Now all I have is the promise of our new beginning, the reassuring preview of your arms wrapping around me again. Just like old times (remember the times). And the blood, Richard, the blood you worked so hard never to see shed is spilling, slowly dripping down my arms and onto the snowy ground. It hurts me to know you see me now, at my weakest, scarring the flesh you caressed every night and day alike. I'm sorry love, but it is for the best… the best…

And never knowing, what could've been
And not seeing that lovin' you,
Is what I was trying to do…

The blade fell from my hands and landed in an awkward position, Richard, it landed blade-up, probably stuck in the snow. The pain comes in slow waves, almost surreal in its existence. But I'll deal with the few moments of pain. If it means an eternity by your side. My stomach churns and I falter, leaning my hand on your headstone. There, I said it. Your freaking headstone. Know why it's there? Because you're dead, love. And pretty soon, I'll be there next to you. My stomach hurt again, the pain doubled up as I relived the second year with you gone. It's time I told you, Richard. A year after you……died; Alexander John Grayson was born. My God, love, you should have seen him. It was like having your baby pictures walk around the apartment, except this little cutie wore longer pants. His first steps he took in your training room, his first words he spoke on our spot on the roof. Then he came back, Richard. That forever damned bastard came back. He caught me and Rachel at the Tower. He took him, Richard. That fucking sick son of a bitch killed my little boy. And he made me watch, Richard; those agonizing screams filled my dreams for years. Now I have two faces staring back at me from the bedside table. I failed you both, sweetheart. In the end, I just wasn't strong enough; I couldn't hold up for the three of us, and now I can't hold up for myself. The pain is getting worse, but soon love, soon we'll all be together again. You'll get to see your son. My knees are failing me, and my feet slip on the icy and snowy ground.

What hurts the most,
Was being so close…

My eyes widen as the blade draws closer to my chest, sinking beautifully into the flesh of my left breast. The pain is even more intense, and the blood flows profusely onto the ground. Some of it even splatters your name. I'm sorry about that, too. I'll clean it up later… for now, the snow provides a pretty comfortable pillow, and the pain is slowly fading away. A few sharp stings every now and then, a very acute stab whenever I try to move. I can feel it sticking out from my back, and the blood dripping from its tip and onto my back. It's cold, love. Will you hug me again? (And bring the warmth back…) my head rests sideways, ironically facing your name.
Soon, my love. I can feel life ebbing away, and I know I'm close. I'm slipping away from the now, but oh, so much closer to wherever it is you are waiting for me. I can't help the moan that escapes my lips as the last of my will to live distorts into a bittersweet longing for death. My eyes are fluttering and I want you to know, my love. I'm not afraid to die for you. I'm not afraid to love you in the afterlife. I want you to see Alex, and to have me by your side as we watch him grow. And now I'll leave this wretched world with the three words that have itched at the back of my throat for six years. I feel the release I needed after that bastard took my son away, and I know this is right.

And now, more than ever, the world is silent.

"I'm sorry, Richard…"

Release.

TTTT

A/N: Thank you, I think this is the worst out of my depressing stuff. But I liked it. Thanks to Kaila, who's stood by me no matter how crappy the time.

TF