Summary: Legend deals with the aftermath of losing his wife and child in a weapons deal gone wrong, when a horrible tragedy occurs.
By the time he'd gotten home, his ears were still ringing, his hair was matted with blood, he felt empty, empty, empty- people were talking all around him but he couldn't hear them. He didn't want to hear them, he didn't want any of these people in his house, even though they were friends and comrades. The very few that were left that hadn't been at the warehouse, so they'd been spared from the blast.
Spared. Alive. Not killed, not torn to shreds, like Roxy, like his little girl –
The shoe was still in his jacket pocket, the only piece of her he'd found; he kept touching it, tracing the outlines of the stitchery with his fingers, committing it to memory. He closed his eyes, even as someone was murmuring meaningless condolences in his ear, remember how they felt, both of them, tight in his arms, how they smelled – Roxy always smelled like vanilla and jasmine, warm and sensual and ethereal and flowery all at once.
Someone was nudging him, asking him if he was okay. No…no, he was not fucking okay. But he smiled and nodded politely, on autopilot, going through the motions like a goddamned automaton.
"Let us know if there's anything we can do for you – "
"I'm so sorry, so sorry for your loss – "
There was nothing anyone could do. Everything he had, everyone he loved - gone, in one fell swoop. Gone, because some motherfucking asshole decided to double-cross the double-crosser. Well. Touché, Liner. Vaya con dios.
Or not. They'd meet again one day, and when they did, it would be Liner's last day.
Finally, thankfully, all of the well-wishers left, and Zed closed the door behind them, locking it. Alone. For the first time in eight years, he was utterly alone. Roxy's coffee mug still held the dregs of her morning brew, sitting on the counter; Zed pitched it into the sink. Laurelei's bowl of soggy corn flakes she'd left behind on the kitchen table, she hadn't brought her bowl back over to the sink.
He stared into the soggy mash until his eyes went blurry, then snarled and hurled the plastic bowl against the wall, milk splashing out, cereal sticking in clumps here and there on the wall.
Zed sank down, his back against the wall, sinking down until he was sitting crouched upon his heels; he rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to wipe away all he'd seen in the past twenty-four hours.
Some notes: Liner is the canon name of the guy in Before Crisis who double-crosses Legend during a weapons deal, the result of which is the death of all of his friends and comrades, including a little girl who was very important to Legend. I've expanded upon that small bit of canon and made that little girl Legend's daughter, Laurelei.
Additionally, while his code name is Legend, I've established in my headcanon and stories about Legend that he goes by Zed for a nickname, so I often go back and forth between both names.