Author's Notes:
I was carrying the idea for this story for a while somewhere in the back of my mind. And then I read Allen Blaster's Why. If you haven't already, do yourself a favor and read it.
I want to thank Allen for the inspiration and for his beautiful and touching story. It sparked life into the idea I had, and made it so I just had to write and post this one as a mirror and a small tribute. I hope it's worthy.
Oh, and by the way - don't jump to conclusions. Read until the end.
Why, Garfield?
She was floating in lotus position in her room, as usual. But there was no meditation to be done. The pain in her soul was just so… overwhelming; she felt it creeping up, choking her, drowning her. To find her center and focus would mean to go to its core, face it, acknowledge it. It would tear her apart.
As if it was not doing so right now.
She sighed, outwardly calm. It surprised her a little that she was able to put her stoic mask back on so easily after what happened. But the pain was so deep and pervasive that little gestures like keeping a straight face and a steady, monotone voice were small, unimportant, incidental.
Why, Garfield?
He was gone. He left her. She was alone.
No, not alone, she corrected herself, gently placing her hand on her slightly swollen belly. Not alone. But that only made it even worse.
If it wasn't for that, she would go after him. Nothing else kept her here, not even her friends. As much as she loved them, she would leave, follow him. Look for him. Find him, face him, maybe even rage at him and ream him out for his idiocy.
If it wasn't for you, little one, I'd do it. But I have to keep you safe. You are the best and most wonderful gift he ever gave me. He would be angry at me if I didn't take care of you.
It was probably the reason he did it. He loved you, you know, even if you haven't been born yet. But he was also scared. She could feel it. Apprehensive, insecure. Scared of the commitment, afraid of the responsibility, terrified that he would be found wanting.
But he fought it, and wrestled with himself, and made an enormous effort to be what he thought he should be for you, and for me. And I had to love him even more for that.
But when the moment came, it pushed him over the edge. And now he's gone. Left her alone. Left them alone.
She sighed again.
Why, Garfield? Why did you do it? Wasn't there a better way? Why did you leave us?
She should be angry at him. Azar knew he used to drive her crazy, press all her buttons. And what he did… She should be furious at him. But she couldn't.
Maybe if she could be angry at him it would hurt less. Maybe if his impulsive act sparked her rage she could use it to give her strength to overcome it. But she found it impossible for her to feel anything but love for him.
She wanted to hate him, wanted to be furious at him, wanted to see the gaze from his emerald eyes drop down to the floor in embarrassment as she shouted angrily at him. But she couldn't. How could she?
There were but few emotions in her right now. Love and loss. Longing and pain.
She wondered if he realized what he was doing at that moment. What the consequences of his action would be. Probably not. Gar never paid much attention to that kind of thing.
He was always quick to sacrifice, to give out his heart and soul. His infatuation with Terra. What happened in Tokyo. The many other times she saw him, felt him thinking about girls.
A pain that was almost physical went through her chest, nearly doubling her over.
He only needed a little affection. That was all he ever asked for. And she had responded with years of insults, demeaning, ridiculing.
And yet, since they started dating, he had no eyes for any other girl. She knew it. She could sense it. He was committed fully and completely. Even more so, if possible, after a quirk of fate left her pregnant, despite the precautions.
But now he was gone. Far away. Unreachable.
Don't blame yourself. Don't blame our child. Don't even blame him. What happened was… fate. Destiny. He felt he had to do it. It had to be that way.
She took a deep, shuddering breath and stroked her belly again.
I'll just have to manage somehow. For your sake, little one. And for his.
There was a knock on the door. She felt Cyborg's presence.
She sent a telekinetic command that opened the door. Cyborg strode in, his implant eye glowing in the gloom.
"How're you handling it, little sis?"
"I'll live, Vic. I have to. You know why. How about yourself?"
"I'll be fine" he lied. "I was worried about you."
"Don't be."
"I have to, little sis. Besides… it gives me purpose. Keeps me from going crazy."
"I know what you mean, Vic. I'm in the same situation. I also have someone I have to look out for."
He nodded, almost imperceptibly.
"I'll leave you now. Just wanted to see if you needed anything."
"I promise I'll let you know, Vic."
"You do that, little sis."
He turned to leave. She called after him.
"Vic? There is one thing."
"Yes?"
"Kori… keep her away from me."
He frowned. "Why?"
She sighed. "Victor, she is a fountain of joy, a burst of happiness, the personification of the sheer bliss of simply being alive. As much as I hate to admit it, her boundless optimism and enthusiasm pulled me through some dark times. If I felt that joy, that happiness… smothered… by what happened, I'd… I'd lose it."
He nodded again. "I understand. I'll talk to her and explain it to her. We wouldn't want to hurt her."
"No. There has been too much hurt already."
"All right, little sis. You take care of yourself now. And you come to me if you need anything at all."
She gave him tiny smile. "I will, big bro. I will."
He left, closing the door. Gloom enveloped both her body and her soul again.
Why, Garfield?
She closed her eyes. The scene played again in her mind. The huge concrete monster. Someone's tiny carelessness, giving Cinderblock an opening. The enormous stone fist coming her way. Something slamming into her back, throwing her away from the deadly fist. The smack of stone on flesh, the crunch of bones, the groan of pain, the sensation of agony suddenly coming from him. The sight of Cinderblock crushed into pebbles by her power. His face, smiling at her. His lips, forming his last, unvoiced words.
"I love you."
Why, Garfield?